Lord of the Rings Fan Fiction
by Avalain Nightshade
Summary: This IS a tenth companion to the Lord of the Rings Story. Avalain Nightshade is the younger lady of Rivendell. She is beloved by her family and her people, and she in turn loves them just as deeply. When Gandalf the Grey alerts her to the threat of the Ring, however, Avalain is willing to ride out and meet the hobbits and do her part to rid the world of darkness.
1. Chapter 1

Concealed in a valley, the city of Rivendell stood. Over a white balcony overlooking the entrance of Rivendell stood the city's younger princess. She leaned eagerly over the white railings, waiting for a sign. Her amber eyes were fixed upon the silver gate that welcomed friends and strangers, and she paid no heed to the beautiful weather, the shining sun and its aura of hope. Nor did she acknowledge the birds chirping in the trees… Though the wind would occasionally caress her face, she would impatiently brush her dark brown hair away.

Suddenly, a grin broke over her face. The Elvish princess rushed from the balcony towards the silver gate at the base of the valley. She knew perfectly well it would be quite a long walk back up to her house, but that did not matter—she'd found what she was looking for.

As she darted past villagers and houses and gardens, the princess lifted her skirts to make her run easier. The smile upon her face never diminished; because she was joyous, so were her people. They too began smiling before long.

Upon reaching the gate she'd watched up above, she was quite out of breath. Before she could speak, she was interrupted.

"I see you missed me."

The Elf sitting upon his horse grinned. As he swung himself off his steed, asked the girl, "What makes you say that?"

"For one, you aren't wearing shoes," replied he superiorly. Encouraged by her flush, he clicked his tongue in mock scolding. "What would your father say?"

The Elvish princess scoffed and waved her hand dismissively. But immediately afterward, she laughed. "It is wonderful to see you, Legolas!"

Legolas, with his pale hair and bright blue eyes, laughed too. Between him and the princess standing in front of him, there could not have been more of a contrast. Where he was fair-haired and blue-eyed, she was dark-haired and amber-eyed. He was tall for Elvish beings; she was short.

"I am able say the same for you, Avalain," responded Legolas. Then, still overcome with joy at seeing his dear friend, added he, "Come, your father will be wondering where you are. And since _**someone **_forgot to bring shoes, I shall bring you back up to the palace myself."

Legolas seated Avalain on the horse that brought him to the city. Yet before they could set off to the top of the valley, there came a second pair of hoof-beats.

When Avalain turned around, she was more than surprised. Almost tumbling back off the horse, she curtsied low to the ground and made sure to welcome the next visitor, the Lord Thranduíl, Legolas's father. The King of Mirkwood had arrived as well—a shock she was not expecting.

Luckily, the King of Mirkwood did not notice her absence of shoes.

But what she noticed herself was that her friend had blanched at his father's appearance. Avalain decided to ask Legolas about his uneasiness later, for she did not wish to spoil whatever joy she had just received at seeing him.

Once in the stables of the palace, Avalain ran into her sister Arwen, who was tending her horse. Arwen was also glad to see Legolas again.

For a while they talked, the princesses sitting on boxes of hay. Legolas stood as he cared for his horse, and finally he said what Avalain had been wondering if he'd remember—"And this year is special, is it not?"

"It is," replied she smilingly.

"On this day, you have been an adult for a half-year!" exclaimed Arwen. "With a sister younger than I by three years, I feel like an old maid."

Legolas laughed as Avalain responded, "No, no! You are still in your younger years, sister. Besides, you already have Aragorn. Not fair at all to call yourself an old spinster."

Arwen blushed, and in reply to her sister's remark, answered, "I suppose so. But you cannot call yourself that either—just entering your adult years are you. Much time is left for you in this life, sister. Use it wisely."

Avalain smiled sweetly. "I believe I already have…" She gently twirled a stray piece of hay between her fingers. She continued to watch it rotate as Legolas asked, "Enlighten me, Avalain? I fear your answers are not understood by all."

Yet she did not respond. Her gaze held on her strand of feed, though the corners of her lips tugged to form a smile.

"Very well then, keep your secrets," retorted Legolas evenly. "For a thousand and one hundred years now I've known you, and yet I still have not learned the inner thoughts of my best friend. What does that say about us?"

"That you have yet to penetrate the wall that surrounds my mind," answered Avalain simply. "Perhaps one day you shall break through the shell that protects my deepest, darkest desires…" Here, the younger princess half-closed her eyelids in a joking manner—"and _**if **_you do, that day I shall congratulate you and answer all questions you should conjure."

Recognizing temporary defeat, Legolas laughed once and remarked, "I shall hold you to that."

"I know you well enough to know you shall." With that, Avalain blew the stray twig of hay, where it landed on Legolas's head. She giggled when he tried unsuccessfully to remove it.

Hours later they sat accompanied by King Thranduíl and Lord Elrond for dinner. Though Avalain and Arwen were glad to see them, an uneasy silence enveloped the room. For the first few minutes, the two ladies attempted to start a conversation, but they soon realized their attempts would not wield the desired results.

Both princesses perceived the dim aura of the other three as quite negative indeed. They felt the chill calm that settled before bad news—it made them quite unsettled. Each princess noticed how grim their father Lord Elrond seemed, and Legolas as well. King Thranduíl too was quiet with darting eyes.

Needless to say, all were glad when it was over. Once Arwen said, "Dear sister, it is strange to think you've been an adult for a half-year," the mood lightened considerably. All began laughing and talking about the things Avalain had yet to learn of her city and Middle-Earth, even though she was not the heiress of Rivendell.

Yet Avalain could not help but notice that Legolas was still apprehensive. She wondered whether to ask him about it; during her absence of the conversation, the others fell into a gradual stupor once again. Dismayed, she did the same, still pondering what was happening.

Finally, dinner was over. The servants quickly took the plates away. Even they were unnerved by the long silence. Avalain watched wistfully as they went, for she wished the quiet would end. But she was jarred from her thoughts when she heard her father say, "If we could please see Legolas and Avalain in the lounge."

Arwen started and glanced at the others. Avalain froze and stared at her father, wondering what she did wrong. Legolas only shook his head dejectedly and rose to obey Lord Elrond's summons.

Avalain was certain he knew what was going on.

But she couldn't bring herself to ask what was happening. Fear nestled into her mind, and the cold silence that occupied the room during dinner made her all the more sure that ill news was about to be given. Blankly she traveled to the lounge, and with unblinking eyes she sat in one of the chairs.

The lords exchanged glances—Avalain felt quite uninformed. Legolas's face had a shadow over it.

"I realize this is not the sort of news we would like to bring on the first day back," King Thranduíl finally began. "Yet we feel that you, Avalain, have a right to know what is to come in the next few days."

Avalain's suspicions were confirmed. This was something that concerned her or Legolas or Arwen.

"The walls of Gondor are weakening. The strength of Men is often tested by Orcs that rage outside the cities. The Enemy has taken Osgiliath away from the Mortals. They require aid. So it was that we drafted a good fraction of Elves to go aid them. From all cities Elves will be represented—Rivendell, Mirkwood, Lothlórien."

"Someone is to fight in this war? Is it I?" asked Avalain, more shocked than afraid. Though she had been trained, her father didn't know about it.

It was Legolaswho taught her how to fight. He and Avalain had found a secret place in the garden were they practiced each day in the summer. Not even Arwen knew about this secret; it was kept exclusively between Avalain and Legolas. Swordplay and archery Avalain had mastered, but she was unable to inform her father of this. If she did, then she would be telling her father she broke his rule of not to learn to fight. In Rivendell, women did not fight.

Avalain and Legolas sought around this rule anyway.

Lord Elrond shook his head sadly. "No, my daughter, not you. Though your name was indeed _**drafted **_to go to Minas Tirith, it is not you who shall go. Another volunteered to go in your stead."

Avalain jolted. She jumped up from her chair and announced, "No. I won't allow it."

Ignoring her exclamation, it was with reluctance that her father continued. "Legolas has volunteered for you in your stead. He is the one who shall go to ride alongside our people."

"But how can this be?!" shouted Avalain, dismayed. "Father, this must be a mistake—Legolas cannot go!"

King Thranduíl sighed and appeared to age twenty years in ten seconds. It was sadness that he said, "Dear child, we figured there would have to be at least one of the Lords or their children to stand alongside the Elves. The reason your name was eligible was because the Elves are to head to Minas Tirith, where they will train for years. All the ladies were accepted for teaching—including you and Arwen. So your names were submitted. We never dreamed out of all the names entered, it would be yours to emerge."

"And so Legolas is going for me," whispered Avalain in horror. She gazed at Legolas's face, which was determined and melancholy as one. "But I never said he could. I didn't allow it."

"Nonetheless, with your permission or not, I'm going," interrupted Legolas. He gazed into Avalain's eyes as he said, "You have not been in a war with the sound of screaming people, the sight of blood and destruction all around you, the tears shed over the bodies of the deceased, the cries of the wounded. No… you do not understand. Once you've seen or been in a battle, you can never forget. I want to spare you from such a fate, Avalain, at so young an age. You are too fragile to risk, too innocent to fight. You are with all your life ahead of you, and to embroider all your memories with red is a cruel fate. I won't let you go—I would much rather keep you safe here than know you will never be the same upon your return… if you would've come back at all."

During this, tears rolled down Avalain's face. Despite her wiping them away angrily, more took their place. She did not want Legolas to go at all—not when he had just arrived—not when he was doing it to save her.

"No," whimpered she. "You cannot go."

Though Legolas gave her a downhearted smile, he did not respond. It was Lord Elrond who next spoke. "I'm sorry, my daughter. But someone must—and it is too late to change this plan. He must go."

The severity of the situation, the possibility that she may never see her dearest friend again consumed her; as did the fact that if he died, it would be _**her **_fault.

"Please," cried Avalain softly. "Is there no other way?"

"No, child, there is not," King Thranduíl responded quietly. "If there was, we would've found it by now. As it is… we will continue looking. But though we shall do our best, that does not mean we shall succeed."

It was with a shudder of breath that she finally mumbled, "I understand." Before anyone could say anything, the young princess of Rivendell swiftly exited the room.

She soon stood on the same balcony she had five hours beforehand while waiting for Legolas to arrive. _And a few short days, I'll be here again. Only this time, I'll be watching him leave. Perhaps for forever, _she thought. More tears fell from her eyelashes at this realization.

Much like she had with the afternoon sun, she did not pay attention to the night sky. She did not see the dark blanket of the night with white dots across it. Nor did she notice the absence of the chirping crickets. The wind had ceased, leaving an eerie silence in its wake, and though the night was no different than any other, to Avalain it was somber in its cruelly beautiful way.

After standing on this balcony for a few minutes, she heard the voice she wished to hear. "Will you miss me?"

"Of course I shall," replied she downheartedly. "More than I ever have in my life, I expect."

What she did not add was how much she'd regret that night once he would be gone. Since her childhood, the last thing wanted anyone to do for her was sacrifice himself. Now that it was actually happening, the reality of it was torture. And the worst part was that there was nothing she could do about it.

"I am sorry, Avalain. I really am," explained Legolas. "I'm sorry you were chosen, and that there was no other way. But now that this has happened, I have to do this. The defenses of Gondor are failing. It is foolish to stand by and watch the Men suffer—they have been our allies since the Dark Days. The Elves need a current or a future leader among them to raise their spirits. I'm trying to save you, Avalain."

"I don't _**need **_you to save me," wailed Avalain. "I need you safe. I need to know that you will return to me when Osgiliath is reclaimed. I need you to stay here so you won't have to risk yourself for me."

There was a sigh, and she turned to find her friend standing a few feet behind her. He wasn't smiling, but the look in his eyes was an attempt at optimism. She couldn't bear it—another tear leaked from her eyes.

And then he murmured, "But I cannot give that to you. I wish I could say I will be safe, that I will return. That I will come back to you. But this is war, Avalain. It's unruly—and the worst part about it is that evil often has the upper hand, because evil doesn't have to play fair. Good does. Our nobility, our refusal to sink to evil's level, often handicaps us and limits our options. We play the riskier game for our own sakes."

"But why must we?" asked she almost inaudibly. "If it means getting you home safe… I would use a strategy worthy of evil. It might even save lives, Legolas, and not just yours. Others, too… and the people might not mind it if it means their loved ones have been saved."

Legolas was taken aback. He never expected his dear Avalain to say such a thing. When he regained his breath, he remarked, "Yet that would defeat the purpose. Who says that we wouldn't continue to fight at their level? Though we might think evil strategies save lives, in the end we wouldn't be any different than the ones we fought against."

The response was a sigh. "That is unfortunately true."

Another silence reigned, not even broken by chirping crickets. Both thought it unnerving, and they spoke at once.

"If you are to go—"

"There's something I—"

They stopped and stared at the other. Then, with a slight smile, said Avalain, "You first. Mine can wait."

Legolas nodded and resumed, "I just recalled—there's something I wish to give you. Although it isn't quite finished, I believe time is of the essence. And since I have none left to finish it…"

He gently grasped Avalain's hand and, into her palm, placed a beautiful diamond bracelet with sapphires and emeralds. The largest gem was pure white… and it was glowing.

"Though it seems like an ordinary bracelet, my father and I managed to enchant it so it can store energy that can be used for magic," explained Legolas, smiling at her astonishment. "Whenever necessary, you can command part of your energy into this bracelet. And whenever you require extra strength for a healing spell or battle charm, you need only summon it from the bracelet and it will transfer into you, to be used at your disposal. I dearly hope you will only require it for healing… but remember that it can only be used while it is upon your person. Even so, it can hold unlimited amounts of energy."

While he spoke, Avalain slipped the gift over her wrist. It fit her exactly; it glowed with contentment. She stared at it all throughout the explanation.

When she regained her breath at last, gasped Avalain, "It's beautiful. Thank you, Legolas. And if you are to go… there is also something I've been working on for a while now. In fact, its work was completed this day. It appears fate knew you will need it in three days' time. I have it right here, perchance."

She crossed the balcony and found the table she had laid the gift on. Earlier that morning, she had finished crafting a bow for Legolas, as a gift for when he left in the fall like he always did. Though she had only charmed three arrows—that was all the wood she was provided—she dearly hoped it would suffice.

"It was to be yours the day you left, but… seeing that plans have changed, this is yours now." Gently, she handed the bow to him and watched as he stared at it. "As you know, the Elder Tree was cut down a year ago. I asked for part of its wood and ended up with quite a good portion. With it, I crafted this and a few arrows—I managed to charm the arrows so they never miss their target, and they shall always return to the quiver. But beware; the arrows shall only return to _**this**_ quiver. Arwen was willing to supply me with her wood as well, but I didn't have time to make more arrows… I realize you already have a bow, yet I hope that this will be of use to you."

"You used your wood of the Elder Tree for me?" asked Legolas faintly.

His bewilderment was well-deserved; the Elder Tree was a tree that signified the flourish of the Elves. After the Dark Days, something remarkable happened—magic was born inside the Tree. The Tree grew and created its own aura of life and hope and joy, but ten years previously, it began to die. The Tree's magic diminished, but the Elven Lords proclaimed that if they cut it down, its magic would be preserved. That was when Avalain requested part of its wood. When she informed her father of what she would do with the wood, her father agreed to give her as much as she needed. He also provided Arwen with some, yet she had no need of it and offered it to her sister.

The reason the Tree was so renowned was because it was the strongest source of Elven magic. If the parts were placed as a whole once more, the Tree's owner would be unstoppable. Because of that, the Lords agreed it was best that the wood have multiple homes.

So Legolas's amazement was again, well-deserved. Avalain smiled in answer and murmured, "Yes. I had nothing better to do with it, and I believed that I might as well fashion it into something that could be used."

She gently pressed the bow into his hands.

"And these arrows are yours as well. Always know that if you have these weapons at your disposal, you will never have to worry about becoming undefended during battle. Just… promise me you will be careful," pleaded Avalain. "Tell me that you will use these, for if you do… I will know that you are safe. Promise me."

"Of course I shall always use these," answered Legolas. "And in turn, will you promise to always wear the bracelet? It might save your life someday, as I'm sure your gift shall do for me."

She smiled. "It shall never leave my wrist from this moment onward."

There they smiled and promised the other that they would spend as much time as possible together before Legolas would leave for training and, ultimately, battle in the Mortal country.

And so they did—everyone managed to forget the war at the next evening's feast celebrating Avalain's halfway day of birth. The entire city attended, and all had a wonderful time with music and dancing; by the time dawn arrived, everyone had made memories that would last the rest of their lives.

The next day, Legolas and Avalain proceeded to their secret place in the garden and trained as if it were a normal day. Afterward they sat at the tip of the waterfall, where they always escaped to when they wished to be alone.

Yet the day after, both were at the silver gate at dawn. Just before Legolas could leave, Avalain caught him and softly requested with tears in her eyes, "Please remember me."

"This isn't goodbye for forever," replied he concernedly.

"It might as well be. What if you never come back?"

"Nothing will stop me from returning. I _**will **_come back to you."

And with that, Legolas smiled and left upon his horse. Avalain sighed sadly and waved farewell… She stared at his retreating figure until it was gone.

So began her life without him. Most of her time was spent with Arwen, trying to forget that it was summer and that Legolas should have been with her. Her father attempted to engage in this, and succeeded most of the time.

Time passed—months, and then years. Avalain received letters from Legolas every now and then, and her life would brighten knowing that he was still alive. But it would also remind her that he might not stay that way forever.

Yet finally, just before her nineteenth date of birth, the day came when Avalain caught news of the company Legolas had been in. Almost everyone was slaughtered. Five were taken prisoner. And, to confirm her fears, she did not receive any letters from him again.

"It's my fault he died," said she every day. "I should have gone instead."

Though he did not know it, and though it was not in the way he thought they would be, Legolas's fears were confirmed as well.

Avalain would never be the same again.


	2. Chapter 2

More time passed, and the sadness of Avalain spread throughout Rivendell. Even the weather seemed to reflect her state—for months afterward the city barely saw any light; clouds blocked the warmth of the sun.

Avalain's nineteenth date of birth passed without any celebration, for she believed there was nothing to be joyful about. It was just another standard Elf year with the weight of guilt upon her shoulders.

To top it off, her father had to leave for Lothlórien for an Elven meeting about the welfare of their people—and the elder siblings of the cities were required to come as well. So Avalain would be alone except for the servants, but not even they spoke to her very much.

Strangely enough, it suited everyone just fine. Her father and sister were very upset about the younger princess's change, but they felt that some time alone might be just what Avalain needed. Avalain herself thought the same—perhaps two or three weeks alone was a good thing.

Each day she was alone, she followed a routine. Since there wasn't a real need to be secretive, she trained openly and was pleased to see her skills were steadily improving. Then she would tend to the garden to find the plants were thriving nicely. Afterward, she would walk to the silver gate and stand there as if waiting for someone to arrive. No one ever did, but all the same, it gave her a sense of comfort.

On the sixth day, Avalain was standing beside the silver gate when two figures appeared on the pathway. As they got closer, she could see that they were horses, and that one horse bore two riders—yet the other had no one upon its back. This confused her until she saw that one of the riders on the first horse had his eyes closed. He was wounded.

Avalain glanced at the bracelet Legolas had given her. A small ray of hope grew inside her as she watched the riders approach.

Once they did, she could see they were not Elves, but Men, strikingly similar to the other. The horses halted when they saw her. The one who looked to be the elder spoke: "Please—my brother is injured. This wound is one that needs Elvish medicine. Is there anyone who can help?"

"I can," responded Avalain. She realized her black cloak was obstructing her face; she lifted it, amused by the shock portrayed on the Man's part as she did so. "I'm a Healer. I shall bring you up to the house—I will be able to cure him. Worry not."

With this, the Man nodded. "You may use this horse if you like."

Her lips curled slightly; it was the closest to a smile she'd gotten for a while. The two horses launched up the valley towards the top house.

As she directed the horses to the stables, she rushed inside the house with the brothers close behind. Entering one of the guest rooms, she bade the servants, "Please be close—I might need your help," and waited for the elder brother to place the younger on the bed.

"How did this happen?" asked Avalain when she saw the wounds. There was a very deep cut in his side, and another few on his arms and legs. She wondered if the battles had come so close to Rivendell.

Said the elder, "Orcs had passed Gondor's borders and moved north to Rohan and Dunland. We pursued them. Though the beasts are defeated now, my brother fell to a poisoned Orc blade. All the cuts are full of it. Though our nurses tried to heal him, they could do nothing."

Almost to herself, murmured the princess as she gently probed the cuts, "Undoubtedly from Mordor. I can heal him… but it will take time."

With that, she began to chant Elvish spells, her hands poised over the cuts. She drew the poison out of his body; though her hands began to shake, she summoned energy she'd stored over the years from her bracelet and proceeded. Next she had to close the cuts. Since there were many and some were deep, this took longer than she'd anticipated. Still, she persisted, thinking that if she couldn't save Legolas, she could save this Man.

After an hour, Avalain was pale and shaking—yet her job was done. The Man was cured. Seeing this, she turned towards the elder brother, whom she wished to cure from injury as well. Though he resisted for a time, he gave in when she said, "Please, let me help you."

While she aided him, asked the princess, "What are you called in your land, Man of Gondor?"

"They call me Boromir, Soldier of Gondor," replied Boromir. "Yet both Rohan and Gondor are home to me, so long as they are home to my kin."

"Well said," acknowledged Avalain. "You fight and defend your countries—a noble thing to do. Are you a speaker as well as a soldier?"

Boromir laughed once and replied, "No, that I am not. Often times when my brethren ask me to speak I find my mind utterly blank before them. It is not my forte in being Captain."

"Captain indeed! You must be very inspiring to overcome such a large number of Orcs. I heard rumors of two thousand beasts slaughtered by half as many Men," relayed Avalain with interest. While talking to Boromir, she found peace that she had not known since losing Legolas.

Again laughed Boromir, "Exaggerations. There were less than a thousand beasts matched by an equal number of Men—but it was a good fight. We lost many days ago, and it was only because Faramir is a beloved Captain that we are here right now. We did not wish to leave our people, but they insisted he needed Elvish aid. We luckily received it from you."

Avalain nodded and replied sadly, "I wish I could've done the same three years past. Tell me, how long have you been in this fray of war? Did you know anyone from the seventh company?"

After thinking for a minute, answered he, "No, I do not believe so. That may be a question reserved for my brother when he awakes. I know Elves made up that company—perhaps I met some and did not know it. It is hard to remember everyone's company… Yet forgive me—rumors say all but five are dead, and those five taken captive."

A shadow passed over Avalain's face. "Yes. The same things came to me. I had hoped I heard wrong. But now I know they are dead… so must he be." She trailed off, all her hopes finally and thoroughly defeated.

"Please excuse my asking, but what relation did you have?" asked Boromir.

Sighed she, "My best friend. Before the Elves went to aid the Men, the Lords agreed there should be a figure from the Elven Cities that should go with their people. My name was picked out of all—but my friend, who had taught me to fight, volunteered to go in my stead. He was in that company, and gave me this before he left." Avalain showed him the bracelet. "When rumor reached me, I couldn't shake off the guilt. I still cannot… he died to save me, and that still haunts me." Avalain shook violently and swayed on her feet, for she was weak from healing.

Boromir steadied her and said, "I'm sorry. War is hard on us all—but princess, you would not have had a kinder fate. It is a brutal thing to witness, to see and be part of. You can only imagine its horrors." Seeing that she was not comforted, asked he, "Yet I can assume that your title is Arwen Evenstar, based on your beauty?"

Avalain's lips curled higher than before. This she noticed and was glad for as she corrected, "That is the title of my sister. I am Avalain Nightshade, but I thank you for your assumption. It nearly brought a smile to my face."

"Yet all speak of how joyful you are, of how smiles always light your face like stars in the night sky?"

"That may have been true thirty years ago, but no longer. The recollection of the dead and guilt weigh me down, Boromir of Gondor. It is a responsibility I wish I did not have to bear, but I do—along with everyone else in this world. My father would say it has made me the person I am today, yet I am not sure that I appreciate who I am anymore," countered she uncertainly. "It is true that I am the Lady of the Stars, but I do not reflect the stars of the sky in my eyes any longer."

The Soldier of Gondor watched as she spoke, and when he saw her eyes, he found they were indeed darkened by memories of the past. It was then he said, "Of course you should mourn for the loss of your friend, Avalain. Though I may not know you well, I wish to see you smile again, and the way to do that is to let go. You do not have to take my advice, but it is how I get by. I am sorry for you, but perhaps it is time for you to continue on as well."

Avalain gazed at him and found his words rang true. It was here that for the first time in thirty years, her lips formed the smile for which she was so well known. Upon seeing it, Boromir smiled as well. "You see? This way, you may brighten your life again."

"Indeed. Thank you, Boromir, for directing me to this path. I feel… freer than before. Perhaps all I needed was a friend to lead me to the light," said Avalain gratefully. Just then, she heard a soft moan behind her.

Instantly, the two turned towards the younger brother, Faramir, on the bed. His eyelids were fluttering slightly. With an enchantment from Avalain, he was able to open his eyes.

Here, the princess of Rivendell could see the most noticeable difference between the brothers. Where Boromir's eyes were blue, Faramir's were light green. Those light green eyes focused on his brother, and then on Avalain.

"What—" began he with difficulty.

"Rivendell, Captain Faramir of Gondor," answered Avalain quickly. "In the house of Elrond, though he is not present. Rest, for you are weary. The same goes for you, Boromir—after I am certain your brother is well, I shall show you to where you shall stay. Certainly you are not leaving this night."

Avalain waited until Faramir's eyes closed again. Comforted that he would be all right come morning, she led Boromir to another room. With a small smile, she bade him goodnight and headed towards her own room, where she realized how grateful she was that the brothers had come.

It was early the next morning when Avalain headed for the room in which Faramir rested. Though it was hardly eight hours since last she saw him, she felt responsible for his recovery.

When she walked in, she was surprised to find that Faramir's eyes were open. Smiling a little, she asked, "You rested well, did you not? I do hope that you feel well now."

The younger brother smiled and answered, "Yes, I am well-rested. I thank you for saving me—and can only suppose you are one of the Elven princesses? Only they and the Lords have the power to heal, or so the rumors tell."

"The rumors are correct, then," said she in return, "and you are right—I am one of the ladies of Rivendell. Yet do you know which one? For yester-eve your brother mistook me for the other."

Faramir studied the princess for a moment and then guessed, "Avalain, am I correct? Lady of the Stars."

With another sincere smile, she nodded. "You are right indeed. My sister and father are not in the house, so unfortunately you cannot meet them. But rest assured, the difference between my sister and I is noticeable—there is a reason she is called the Lovely and I am the Joyful. That, I believe, speaks for itself."

Frowning, asked he, "How is it possible that she is lovelier than you? When first I saw you, I was sure I was dead."

This caused Avalain to laugh. She couldn't help but notice how much she missed laughing; the realization made her laugh once more. At that moment, Boromir walked into the room. He heard Avalain's laugh as well and was pleasantly surprised at the change.

But Faramir, who knew nothing of Avalain's years of sadness, grinned and said, "And so the rumors of the happiest princess are true."

The irony of the statement made the princess giggle. "No, dear Faramir! You are the one who caused me to laugh for the first time in thirty years… yester-eve your brother made me smile again. You have brought joy back into my life, and for that I thank you. I have not known how much I've missed being joyful until now."

Her words caused Faramir's confusion. It was Boromir who explained Avalain's past; once he was finished, his brother looked quite surprised.

"Well then, I am happy to aid you when you've done the same for me," said Faramir.

Again Avalain smiled. "Yes, I am glad that you have come. I needed people to return me to the right path, and I am happy to say you are the ones who have done so. Yet once more, Faramir of Gondor, are you sure you're all right? I wish to help you as much as possible in return for aiding _**me.**_"

Reassuring the princess he felt fine, Faramir then said, "I feel more rested than I have in a long while. I believe I shall get up."

And so he did—Avalain made sure that he was steady on his feet before allowing him to walk. She asked if they would like to stay inside or walk to the village, which of course they chose the latter. As they walked, the trio spoke about the City of Rivendell. The princess was glad to hear all the positive things about the Elves, her people, going around.

While they walked and spoke, people watched them go by. They were very aware of the fact that their princess was once more smiling and laughing. Instantly the Elves knew the Men were the cure, and they were perfectly friendly towards them, often staring after them until they were gone.

The sun came out from behind the clouds, birds chirped in the trees, and smiles again spread among the villagers. The change in atmosphere was so noticeable that there was not one person in the next couple of hours who was not speaking of the Men and how they reverted their princess back to normal.

Days began to pass with the Soldiers of Gondor in Rivendell. Though Arwen and Lord Elrond were gone, Avalain did not feel the least bit alone. She dined with the brothers and exchanged stories of Minas Tirith and Lothlórien and trained with them in the garden. The Men were impressed by her skills and offered to teach her more swordplay in exchange for archery lessons, a deal she gladly accepted. Needless to say, Avalain was back to her normal self in no time at all, and the change was spreading day by day, deeper in the Elven community.

Finally, to perfect matters, early one morning a bird approached Avalain's windowsill. With her permission, it fluttered inside, and the princess could see that attached to its leg was a scroll of paper.

Gently, she received the paper. Frowning out of puzzlement, she wondered if it was her father telling her he would be early or late from the Elven meetings. But when she opened it, her mouth dropped.

For there, in perfectly familiar handwriting, were the words:

My Dearest Avalain:

She screamed.

Boromir and Faramir burst into the room, asking hurriedly, "What's wrong? What's happened?" But when they saw her uncontrollable smile, they knew nothing bad had occurred.

"He's alive!" screamed she, beaming. Positively sobbing out of joy, she continued saying those words for nearly two minutes before regaining control of herself. With tears of utmost relief streaking down her face, she read:

I realize it has been a very long time since I've written to you. Undoubtedly you must be worried about the long absence. Perhaps you have heard of my company being defeated by Orcs, five taken captive; I was one of the five captives. Just two hours ago, the Men reclaimed the City of Osgiliath, which was where I and the other four were held. If I ever meet the Men by name of Boromir and Faramir of Gondor, I should thank them for saving my life and for allowing me to return to you. And I would wish you to know—when the Men asked me what I needed, the first thing I said was, "Paper and ink." I've missed you so much, Avalain. I promise never to worry you so again, if news has reached you.  
>Not a day goes by in which I don't think of you. By the way things are going, fortune is beginning to smile upon us. Perchance before long, I may be with you again. And when that happens, I'll be sure to make up for all the time we've lost while I've been away.<p>

Please forgive me, Avalain.  
>Your Friend, Legolas<p>

Avalain laughed at the irony that Boromir and Faramir were there with her as she read the letter. When speaking the sentence, "If I ever meet the Men by name of Boromir and Faramir…" they laughed as well and said, "Anytime, friend of Avalain."

Still with tears of joy falling from her eyes, exclaimed she, "I must write back! I'm sorry—this is terribly rude, but I must—" She was interrupted their claims that it wasn't rude at all, she was completely justified to write back. Grabbing another paper, ink, and a quill, she wrote in turn:

My Dear Legolas:

There is nothing to be sorry for at all! I was so relieved to have received your letter—you have no idea how I pined. No, my dear friend, I am not angry in the slightest. Words cannot explain the uncontrollable joy I hold in my heart at the news of your rescue.  
>As it turns out, Boromir and Faramir of Gondor are here, in the house of Elrond. They had come to receive aid, for the latter had been injured in the battle that raged on the borderline of Rohan and Dunland. They have heard your message and ask you to make it home for me; I trust you will do so for us all.<br>While my father and sister are in Lothlórien at the regular meetings, as soon as they return I shall ask if I can visit. I found that thanks to your bracelet—which I have never taken off since you left—I can heal hundreds of people with the energy I've stored over the years. Perhaps my father will let me visit you and save lives of Men at the same time! I wish for nothing except to see you again, to know you are indeed back in custody of Men, of our friends. Besides, we've never gone so long without seeing each other, and I miss you as well, more so than ever before in my life.

If you're going back out to battle soon, hold these words in your heart for me, as I hold yours in mine.

Your Dearest, Avalain

She rolled up the letter and tied it together with a piece of string. Whistling for another bird, she fastened her message to the bird's leg and let it fly. She and her two friends watched it fly towards the Mortal countries until it was out of sight.

"I do not know how my spirits can be lifted more," said Avalain. "Everything has worked out. I'm so glad that he is safe… but forgive me, when you retook Osgiliath, how did you not know there were captives there?"

Answered Faramir, "We command the soldiers and create the battle plans. If prisoners of the enemy are found, we are not notified of it because they are taken in immediately and asked if they need anything of special importance. Apparently, your Legolas decided that what he needed most was to write to you."

A smile lit Avalain's face—just then, the sound of hoofs had come from the stables. Exclaimed she, "Come! My family returns!"

As Avalain predicted, her father and sister were in the stables, discussing something in hushed tones. They were interrupted by Avalain, who exclaimed, "Father! Arwen, you're back!" and attacked them with hugs.

"There is so much news to tell," she said hurriedly, her face alit. "While you were gone—so much happened—first, Boromir and Faramir of Gondor are here. They needed some help, but it's all right now. And then I got a letter; Legolas is alive!"

Both started with this news. They peered at her strangely and asked slowly, "Avalain, are you… well?"

"But of course!" she said breathlessly. Avalain shoved the letter at Arwen, who gasped when she saw the handwriting. When she finished reading it, the Lord received it in turn and saw his daughter spoke the truth.

After introducing Boromir and Faramir to her family, said Avalain, "Father, I was wondering something."

"Anything, my dear daughter, it is so good to see you smile again," said Lord Elrond with relief. He had begun to lose hope of Avalain's return. "Soldiers of Gondor, if there is anything I can ever do to repay you for bringing my daughter back to us… speak and it shall be done."

They shook their heads. "As long as Avalain is happy, there is nothing we can ask from you."

Smiling, Lord Elrond asked then, "Daughter, what is it you wish for?"

"Please—to see Legolas in Gondor?" queried she hesitantly. "It's been a very long time for us to be apart. And I could help there, too, I could heal Men who need it, I could save lives of friends and allies. There is no need for me to stay a long while, but… for a little?" she ended her request as a question, glancing up at Lord Elrond unsurely.

Yet he smiled warmly and announced, "Of course. Boromir and Faramir of Gondor, know that you may stay for however long you like. But when you decide to return to your country, as one last favor, I ask that you bring my daughter with you. She can find her way back easily enough after two months, yet if possible, accompany her to the land of Gondor. It would be most appreciated."

Both brothers smiled warmly and said, "It is no favor, Lord Elrond."

"Two months?" exclaimed Avalain hopefully. "That long? Thank you!" She couldn't help but start hiccupping out of happiness, causing the others to laugh. "Thank you, father."

"And Arwen, my daughter," continued Lord Elrond, "I believe you would like to take a trip to the North?"

Arwen gasped and gazed at him dubiously. But seeing the smile on his face, she too broke into a grin and began thanking her father repetitively for allowing her to visit Aragorn for two months just as he would let Avalain visit Legolas.

With that, all returned indoors, where they dined joyously. Life was brought back to the house and the city; Arwen and Lord Elrond alike were very glad that the two brothers had brought their princess back to the path of light.

And within the next three days, Avalain received her second letter from Legolas. It wasn't as long as the first, but quite excited:

Dear Avalain:

While I am glad you are not angry with me, I do not know if I shall be able to see you during this time. The battles are becoming fiercer and longer, and I am indeed back in the field of combat. Again I must thank you for your gift—it has saved my life multiple times.  
>If you do come one day, however, let me know so I may be with you as long as possible. Other than the fact that we are still fighting, there is not much else to tell except that I have told the rest of my new company about you, and that if you come, they are all eager to meet you.<br>I would feel much better if I knew Boromir and Faramir would accompany you to this Mortal land, for I feel that when you ask your father, he will not reject you. Please let me know when you can, dear Avalain.

Your Friend, Legolas

Avalain was overjoyed, although she was admittedly worried about the news that Legolas had been returned to the field of battle… Even so, she pushed the thought from her mind and wrote another letter:

Dearest Legolas:

I did indeed ask my father if he was to let me visit you—and you were right, he did not refuse me. I am to come and visit you very soon, I daresay, but do not worry. Boromir and Faramir are going to ride alongside me on the way, and the journey is not terribly long. The brothers have my complete trust, for they know the area better than I, and they have become good friends of mine.  
>I still miss you, of course. Hopefully that will change in the course of the next few days, my dear friend.<p>

Yours in Hope, Avalain

After sending another bird, she finished packing and threw a satchel over her shoulder. Making sure her bracelet was secure on her wrist, Avalain smiled and turned to her bed for sleep.

The next day, after saying goodbye to her father and sister, she departed the city with Boromir and Faramir. Laughing at the wind, Avalain rode off knowing that in ten short days, she would be looking upon the face of the friend she had missed for so long.


	3. Chapter 3

The journey seemed to take no time at all. With the speed of their horses, they finished it the tenth day. It was with merry hearts that they continued for Minas Tirith, which all were anxious to see. Once the tower of Ecthelion was visible, Avalain became more excited than ever to arrive.

As they got closer, Avalain noticed there were tents set up around the White City. She supposed it was so they would set up a border around their families and homes before the beasts would reach the city. She also noted the sound of clanking metal and the bright orange of raging fires in the forges.

_Admirable, _thought she. _The Mortals seem to specialize in all things battle-wise. _

Before entering the settlements, Avalain put up her white cloak to block the heat of the sun from beating upon her dark navy dress. She came towards the Mortals with her face covered, which drew attention; but had the hood of her cloak been about her shoulders, she would've received much more.

Those that _**did **_see her face gaped and whispered quietly about how their leaders came across such a girl. Uneasy questions and rumors began spreading around—was she a witch? A sorceress? Was she here to help or harm? Were their leaders bewitched?

Finally, Boromir and Faramir led Avalain to the thick of the campsite, where she cautiously peered around from under her hood. Men surrounded them, watching her apprehensively. Seeing this, announced Boromir, "This girl is to be trusted. She aided us this past week; we should be thankful."

"It was she who healed me," added Faramir. "And now she has come to heal those who are injured. Her arrival might be just what we need."

But another figure strode up to the three in the middle of the crowd. Appraising the hidden face carefully, said he pompously, "How do we know for sure she is to be trusted?"

The two brothers exchanged looks; they hadn't expected any resistance from their people. Therefore, it was with as much confidence as he could muster that Faramir said, "You must have faith in her as we do. You have to trust us."

Murmurs erupted around the crowd, and Avalain's gaze swept among them. She could see the curiosity and the concern in their eyes—yet the hope was quite noticeable as well. It was then she said, "I can aid you, valiant Men of Gondor. But you must believe that I am able. Please allow me to help."

Her soothing voice stunned many Men into listening. Many wished to hear her out. The Man in the middle, however, still thought otherwise.

"You there—whom do you believe yourself to be? Whoever you are, you have no power here! Leave at once," shouted he, regaining the attention of the Men. Not all agreed with his rash statement, but they remained silent.

Avalain's smile became thin from beneath her cloak. Her face grew hot and her eyes flashed dangerously; though the Men did not see it, all could feel her sudden change in aura and drew away from her quickly. It was with a forced calm that she replied, "You know not who I am, Mortal Man. But if you could see my face, believe me… you would not be so high and mighty afterward."

The Man blanched, much to the princess's satisfaction. But realizing that his own companions stood behind him, he took a deep breath and asked, "So unless you should prove cowardly yourself, what is the appearance of your cloaked face?"

"Avalain?" asked a voice.

She whirled around to find who she came to see. Legolas, with his bright blue eyes, stared at the white cloak hopefully. When she froze, his suspicions were all except confirmed.

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Though Avalain attempted to move her limbs, she could not budge, and her eyes widened. Her cloak slipped just enough to reveal it was indeed her.

Regaining control of her body, she rushed forth to his outstretched arms. It was with palpable relief that she cried, "Legolas! You _**are **_alive…" Despite her attempts to restrain, she began crying out of joy and ignored the Mortals staring at her. For as she had rushed to her dear friend, her hood had fallen, revealing her identity. Many Men gasped out of astonishment and came closer to see her face, but since it was buried in the shoulder of her beloved friend they were not able to quite yet.

When the princess of Rivendell looked into Legolas's face, she saw joy reflected in it. He put a hand to hers, which caused a watery smile. "I see you missed me," murmured he.

This caused her to laugh and say, "Indeed I have, my friend. Just like I said I would… do you recall?" She was pleased to see his nod, and it was then that Legolas noticed Boromir and Faramir.

"Again, I thank you—" began he, but they cut him off.

Faramir's smile was warm as he said, "It is worth everything to see friends and loved ones reunited such as this. It reminds us why we fight in these wars in the first place, does it not?" The Men roared with approval, and after another long look at the princess of Rivendell's face, they dispatched and went back to whence they had come.

With everything back to normal, the Men and Elves began telling their tales. Avalain listened with great interest and could tell that as Legolas spoke, he intentionally dimmed down the worst parts of his capture. But however bad the account might've originally been, Legolas was beside her now—her friend had not perished and was still alive and well, much to her comfort.

Afterwards, she was shown around the encampment until Avalain happened to glance at her bracelet. With a yelp, exclaimed she, "I must go to help the Mortals!" And so the others accompanied her as she cured horrific cuts, cruel burns, minor diseases, and—though it took much of her energy—regrew a few limbs.

Though she did not notice it, the Men had grown curious about all the patients pouring out of the aid tent. Many went to inspect what was happening, and when they saw the scene before them, they grew very fond of the princess indeed. Throughout the day, Avalain managed to heal four dozen Men and befriend three times as many.

Once the sunset turned the sky a deep orange, she had somehow liberated the nurses of a quarter of their patients. It was with thanks that they bade her goodnight, as did Boromir and Faramir after they directed the princess to where she would sleep. Yet she was not tired—she recalled the words, _"I have told the rest of my new company about you, and that if you come, they are all eager to meet you…" _

It was joyously that Legolas led Avalain to meet those whom he joined in battle. They, to say the least, were astounded that what he said was true and that she had indeed come, not to mention her beauty. All agreed nonverbally—though Arwen's grace and magnificence may be better known, what was held in Avalain's face should have been spoken more.

Hours were spent with laughter, telling tales, and descriptions of Minas Tirith and Rivendell. Many Men were glad to hear of her purpose in the settlement; they too had seen Men exiting that tent.

"It is a noble thing, to risk your own life to save others," said one Man. "Of course there is the bracelet, but that was your former energy. It is still sacrifice in an indirect manner and is just as honorable."

Avalain became friends with all the Men, and though they were all stunned at first by her, they all knew better than to say anything. All were glad to meet her, and before she left for sleep, the Men promised to take her training the following morning.

The stars shone brightly again, and in the morning the princess rose bright and early. Men were already awake and grabbing their weapons—Avalain caught up with Faramir, and together they went to the archery range.

When Faramir released his first shot, he asked, "Any mistakes?" But Avalain was quite impressed by his skills and replied, "No—none that I could see. You are very skilled, my friend."

When it was her turn to shoot, the Men paid rapt attention when her first shot was clear through the bulls-eye, but slightly off the exact middle of the target. Scowling, she nocked another arrow and aimed carefully. Though the shot was closer to her intended mark, Avalain wasn't sure what she had done wrong.

While locking her third arrow, she felt someone push her bow a little to the right. Surprised, she watched the weapon embed itself… straight at her target. She wasn't shocked to find Legolas standing behind her. With a grin, said he, "You forgot the wind."

"I already bore that in mind. That was not my flaw," retorted she haughtily. "You are mistaken." To prove him wrong, a fourth arrow was whipped into place and released. It barreled straight through the third arrow, splitting it in two.

His eyebrow rose. "Then why did you just place your bow at the exact same degree to the right as I showed you?"

Argumentatively, remarked she, for she did not wish to be proven wrong, "Because that was my problem. My aim was slightly off. The wind did not affect the trajectory of my arrows." She began to load another arrow—

_WHUMP!_

Surprised, she turned to Legolas, who had split her _**fourth **_arrow into two even before she had pulled her fifth out of her quiver. Avalain glared at him and announced mockingly, "I'm sorry, but I believe the two who arrived first were Faramir and I. What business have you in splitting my weapons?"

"You did it yourself," retorted he.

"Yes, because it was _**mine. **_If you feel the destructive mood, go and break your own, if you will." She pulled out another arrow and fit it into her bow. But then he spoke again and distracted her, ultimately causing her arrow to land a good deal away from where she had been aiming.

Huffing, exclaimed she sarcastically, "Thank you! Now look. I missed."

"Ah, you aren't mad," he scoffed.

"Tell me—how does that thought cloud your mind? Give me a good reason, I dare you, sir," countered she evenly, putting on the best condescending look that she could when she remained five inches shorter than he.

Smirking slightly, replied Legolas, "Because you _**crave **_my presence. Think, dearest, for years we've been apart and all of a sudden, when we've just been reunited, you wish to be rid of me? Must I read the letter to you, the very one you sent me? What had it said, exactly—oh, yes: 'You have no idea how I pined…' shall I continue?"

Avalain couldn't keep back the laughter. It escaped, proving that Legolas was indeed correct for once. Exclaimed she, "Faramir—help me turn the tide of this verbal exchange! I fear I am fighting a losing battle."

Faramir grinned and replied, "I do believe I'll sit this one out, Avalain."

"Oh, what help are you!" huffed she as he loaded his arrow. And with that, he allowed it to fly—it split Legolas's arrow in half.

"Ha!" called Avalain triumphantly. "He's on _**my**_ side!"

Suddenly, another arrow pierced through the wind. From twenty feet further back flew the arrow, and it split _**Faramir's**_ in two. All three turned swiftly to see its owner; Boromir.

"Which side are you on, brother?" cried Faramir, smiling in spite of himself.

Boromir returned that smile and responded, "Any side that promises to go against the foul creatures pursuing these lands." With that, he walked to the target, retrieved his arrow, and walked off.

It was Avalain who charmed together the broken arrows. As she handed them back to their owners, she heard Legolas murmur, "I still won."

"Hardly," said she with indignation. But at his insistent grin, she could not keep back her own.

As the days passed, Avalain's time was mainly spent in the aid tents, but always she was accompanied by Boromir, Faramir, or Legolas. While many of the Men she healed befriended her afterward, none of them were as dear to her as the normal three.

Whenever not in one of the tents, she spent time with those three either training or talking. The brothers had already promised her to show her the White City of Minas Tirith, for which she was excited. The stories they told her intrigued her like nothing else.

Many playful arguments sprang up while training or eating between the four of them. Usually Avalain and Legolas were on opposite sides, leaving the brothers to choose which side to take. They found the fights amusing, however, and wisely chose to watch instead of participate.

Before long, it was September. In two weeks, the princess of Rivendell would be returning to her city. It was here that she began spending all of daylight with someone, doing something—and thanks to her efforts, the Men in the aid tents were almost all healed.

Finally, the brothers told her, "The city of Minas Tirith would like to open its doors for you, Avalain."

She followed them up to the gate of the city. Up close, it was even more spectacular than she had been told. White walls of brick surrounded Minas Tirith, and it was built against the side of the mountain, providing a striking contrast between the dusty gray of nature and the magnificent white of the brick. Above, she could see a large palace and the White Tree of Gondor. There were seven levels to the city, all with people filling the streets.

She could hardly believe her eyes. Since people instantly parted to let Boromir and Faramir pass, it was quite easy to see everything around her. Many times she let out a gasp of admiration at what she saw, such as the White Tower of Ecthelion, or the view of the encampment below. Up at the top of the city, it was without breath that she relayed, "Everything seems more majestic up here than when they first appeared. Do you see it too, or is it my imagination?"

"Worry not—it happens to everyone," responded Boromir. "All see many things their first and second visit that the rest of us no longer notice."

Sighing, said she, "It must be a nice sight each morning."

Smiling ruefully, said Faramir, "It used to be. But lately, the mountains in the distance grow dark. Shadows have settled, and storms have been brewing. Orange flecks up from Mordor. We've never seen anything like it. Though we've been fighting legions of Orcs, it is still difficult to believe that the Enemy is returning."

"An alarming thought indeed," mused she. "But let's not worry about battles this day. Let us relax—long have you been apprehensive of war and long have I been healing Men. Though that is full of honor and duty, it is always good to put aside responsibility for a day and simply let things pass."

"Well said!" exclaimed Boromir. With a smile added he, "You sacrifice your energy for the good of Menfolk and Elf-kind. Are you a speaker as well as a princess?"

It was Avalain who laughed now. She well remembered that conversation. So it was with a grin that she responded, "No, that I am not. Often times when my brethren ask me to speak I find my mind utterly blank before them. It is not my forte in being princess."

"Princess indeed!"

Both exchanged bouts of laughter—much to Faramir's confusion.

Upon returning to the settlements, all were in high spirits. Avalain's expression when her eyes had set on the White Tower of Ecthelion up close still summoned the brothers' laughter. She constantly chided them for teasing her about it.

As the trio got closer to the encampment, they saw something was wrong.

What they had originally inferred to be cooking fires were rapidly spreading, and glints here and there signaled the use of swords. Arrows flew left and right; battle cries issued throughout the plain.

Avalain rushed towards the scene, but Boromir held her back.

"You must hide, princess," ushered he, pointing to the city gates. "We know you can fight, but not in this. You have not been prepared for actual battle. Do not put yourself in peril."

She could only say, "I wish to help."

Patiently, said Faramir, "And you can do that by staying alive for all the Men who will need you after this battle. Please, Avalain, you must leave. We need you to be safe—all of us do."

Before she could contradict, the brothers grabbed their weapons and joined their kin.

Avalain nervously turned towards the city—but something made her stay and watch.

Things were not as simple as the brothers made it out to be. As she watched, foul Orcs ravaged the tents, slaughtering the Men inside that Avalain had not yet healed—luckily, that was a very small number. Other resilient Men were fatigued and easily defeated. Her eyes locked onto a Man who was surrounded by the creatures and watched helplessly as they surrounded him. Blood flew everywhere.

Though the sights were horrible, Avalain could not turn away. In the midst of the fray she heard a cry of, "For Gondor!" A thousand voices returned it, and the Men gained hope. But that did not last long, for the cry also made their opponents angrier and fiercer. Boromir and Faramir disappeared, swallowed in the chaos. But then a new face appeared—she saw the quick hands and golden hair of Legolas, who looked as if he'd been fighting for hours.

"Duck!" screamed she as an Orc took aim at his head. Though he did not hear her, he noticed the Orc and did as she pleaded. To her terror, Elf and beast engaged in heated archery combat.

Men were lying about in heaps—some injured beyond aid for battle, some dead. Most had minor injuries that enabled them to continue fighting, but on the ground.

For another minute, Avalain stood, petrified, listening to the sounds of despair and pain, to the screams of the nurses as they hastened to escape. There were so many beasts it was hard to believe the siege would ever end. And there was so much blood that her vision tainted red. Yet the worst of it was the blank, glassy-eyed looks of the dead, and the cries of desperation from those who remained standing.

_Legolas was right, _thought she with apprehension. _Battles do bring pain and suffering… perhaps he was correct before in saying I was too young. Yet he was also mistaken—I __**needed **__to know what has been transpiring these ages. And now that I do, it is time to do something._

Avalain checked her bracelet and was comforted to find it brightly glowing. She concentrated all that energy into a spell that a wizard-friend had shown her. The memory flowed in her mind: the incantation, the effects—the effort.

Holding her hands out towards the battle, she watched calmly as Legolas's bow dropped. One Orc was coming towards him, another from behind. Boromir and Faramir were surrounded by eleven monsters. Avalain knew there was no way they could survive.

But she felt the best she ever had in her life.

The energy was at her command—all she had to do was say the words. So she did. Her voice echoed over the sky, and all stopped short hearing it.

The earth arose around the battlefield. At her words, it spread into thin dust and enveloped all Orcs surrounding the Men. Avalain crumpled her hands together. The dust solidified to rock, crushing the monsters' bones into dust.

Screeches of pain emitted from behind the rocks she was forming, but a grim smile was etched upon her face. Beads of sweat popped upon her forehead, but she was determined not to falter. She bade the chunks of rock to squeeze together; her hands released the fists they had been making—and then, as her hands dropped, so did the dust.

Once the dust faded away, the Men and Elves stared at her. The spell was so efficient even the enemy armor was destroyed. They cheered at her success.

Avalain was pale, sweating, and shaking. Numbly she lifted her wrist to find almost all her energy supply had been sapped. Her small grin faded when she realized what she'd done—now she'd never be able to heal all those Men…

Legolas rushed towards her, catching her as her knees gave out. Although Avalain had just been in a power rush, it had drained her to the point of not being able to stand.

"Avalain!" exclaimed he, astounded and worried. "Why did you perform such magic? Only wizards can do so, Avalain—much more powerful beings than we! Do you understand me?"

Fuzzily, her eyes focused upon him. "You would've died. You told me the magic worked for battle charms."

He sighed and attempted to find an argument, but seeing her eyelids flutter he decided to momentarily drop the subject. Instead he contented himself with, "Do not ever perform those spells again. Much could've been lost. Your life, for one—and it isn't worth mine."

She murmured something incomprehensible. He believed it was, "Worrywart."

"Who taught you those spells?" asked he in a desperate attempt to keep her eyes open. He had noticed the light of the bracelet—how much it had dimmed.

"Gandalf," mumbled she.

Scoffing, muttered he darkly, "I should've known…"

"I haven't seen him for fifty-seven years. Where has he been?" thought she aloud. She wondered where he'd wandered off to.

Trying for a smile, replied he, "Indeed his name is Gandalf the Wanderer."

His attempt was successful; grinned she, "He's not usually gone this long, though…"

She began to trail off only to hear his concerned, "Oh, no. You are going to stay _**awake, **_Avalain Nightshade."

Her eyes shot open again, but they threatened to close. It was then she heard Boromir. "Is she alive?"

"Barely," whispered Legolas. "She's cold as ice and pale as snow. The energy she stored is gone."

"Quickly, bring her inside!" ushered Faramir.

Despite her frantic efforts to remain awake, Avalain only had time to quietly say, "I'm sorry, Legolas," before allowing herself to succumb to the lulling world of black.

Avalain fell to dark dreams. All were cast with a dim shadow, and though she knew it was her sleeping imagination, the nightmares were so lifelike that she couldn't believe they were only dreams.

Scenes like the battle she'd just ended flew through her mind, leaving her wishing she could perform the same spell again—but she did not have the energy. Faramir, Boromir, and Legolas were surrounded by the creatures, and she couldn't see what happened to them…

More nightmares flooded her consciousness; she wished only to be rid of them.

When her mind faded to black again, Avalain braced herself for the terrifying images she was sure would follow—her surprise was great when she found stars whirling in front of her eyes. Suddenly, her gaze focused on a single star, despite there being millions.

As she watched, it erupted before her very eyes. The light was blinding, and she was forced to look away. Avalain knew what would become of it since the star had reached its supernova stage. It would either transform into a new star or morph into a destructive black hole… She wondered whether the event had yet happened, and what the result would be, since it would either save or end the life of an Elf somewhere.

Then her vision became hazy and dizzying, and she heard voices above her.

"We tried to return her to the city, but she did not wish to leave us. Avalain may not have been training for battle, but let's face it, Legolas, without her we would have been slaughtered. Though she's weakened now, she saved thousands of lives."

_Boromir, _thought she, grateful for the defense. But like it was with their teasing arguments, so it happened with real ones. Legolas was on the opposing side.

"You know how stubborn she is! She should _**not **_have been allowed to return; look what has happened now. If it weren't for the citizens inside the city walls who donated their share of energy, the nurses wouldn't have been able to save all the Men who needed aid." Avalain could feel his angry eyes upon her as he spoke.

A third calm voice—Faramir—spoke up. "Remember, if she hadn't intervened, all the Men would've been killed. The nurses wouldn't even have _**needed **_to aid anyone because they all would've perished." Again, Avalain felt a rushing sense of gratitude for Faramir. She only wished Legolas would understand…

There was a silence, and Avalain began to wonder if her friend had finally decided he'd been defeated. But then she heard his soft yet poorly controlled murmur. "I have sworn to my Lord Elrond to protect her with my life. Her time here is nearly up, and I wish for her safety more than anything else. She shall leave as soon as she is healed to prevent another rash, foolish decision."

Though she could not move, these words pierced Avalain's heart. Her throat constricted and she could not breathe.

"She should never have come here."

With that, Avalain put all her energy into opening her eyes. Though eventually she succeeded, Legolas had already gone.

She gasped in pain and whimpered, her eyes darting towards the exit. It was then she heard two other exclamations and worried cries of, "Avalain!"

Her eyes lingered on the exit for another moment before she turned to Boromir and Faramir, both of whom were concerned and attempting to detect signs of healing. Noting her watery eyes, they knew she'd heard the entire argument.

"Oh, no, Avalain," murmured Faramir. Grasping her hand, said he, "Pay no mind to what the Elf says. You have done a very noble deed on the battlefield—you saved hundreds of lives. Isn't that one of the reasons you came here?"

Summoning her energy to speak, she whispered, "He said I shouldn't have come. He thinks I'm a child. Unable, foolish, weak…"

Boromir leaned on her other side and replied, "Avalain, he is only worried for your safety. After all, he does not see things the way we do. Remember that all others see you as a heroine. Do not burden yourself with the criticism of one."

"How can I not when his voice is one of three that counts most?"

Boromir and Faramir lowered their gazes and said nothing. Both knew that no matter what they said, she would not be swayed. And they realized simultaneously that Legolas's opinion would always come first because she loved him. She knew him longest, was her dearest friend, and pined for him when everything seemed lost.

Avalain began to cry upon hearing the silence in return. Her stifled sobs pained the brothers, who could not find words to console her. They simply looked at the ground and remained, even though her suffering caused _**them**_pain as well.

But though Faramir felt nothing else except Avalain's sorrow reflected upon himself, anger flared inside Boromir. When he thought back to how much Avalain had suffered for that Elf, he felt her pain. He remembered how overjoyed she had been to discover he had survived—and now, what he had done to her despite the fact that she'd saved his life.

His head jerked up, but neither Avalain nor Faramir saw it. Nor did they notice the spur of fury that suddenly lit his eyes… he glared towards the exit and saw a flash of gold dart past the tent's doors and out of sight.

Leaping to his feet, muttered Boromir, "I'll be back." Then he left.

Faramir and Avalain stared after him, Avalain's tear-streaked face starting to dry. She was confused by Boromir's sudden leave, but was brought back to the present by Faramir. "Avalain, no matter what your friend may say, know that _**you are a heroine. **_You ended the battle and without you, we would've been defeated. Though you may not realize it, I am in debt of you yet again… as is the rest of the Gondor's army."

Avalain watched his green eyes as he spoke and drew what comfort she could from his words. She managed a weak smile. "Thank you, Faramir."

In return, he smiled slightly and kissed her hand. He was rising when Avalain gasped and asked, "You are leaving?"

Glancing back at her, replied he, "Not if you wish for me to stay."

"Please—stay."

And so Faramir knelt back beside her, Avalain drawing as much assurance as she could from his presence, and Faramir hoping that he would be of some help to her in the end.

Despite the tranquility he'd just left, Boromir's thoughts were clouded and scattered. Anger dominated his mind and what space was left was filled with sorrow for the princess, his friend. Though his sudden exit might've alarmed her, he wished to find the Elf and alert him of what he'd done.

Finding him at the archery field—which was demolished except for two targets—Boromir didn't get close before hearing Legolas say, "I do not need to hear your words to know what has happened." He fired the arrow in his bow. Boromir was certain it would land dead center.

His surprise to find that the arrow completely missed the bulls-eye replaced his anger for only a moment. But shaking his head, he retorted nonetheless, "Then you saw what you did to her. And still you are not ashamed."

The next arrow missed the entire target_**. **_Legolas whirled upon him and demanded, "Are you foolish enough to believe that I feel _**nothing **_for having caused her pain?"

"You seem enamored with that word; foolish. Do you know what Avalain believes? She believes you see her as a foolish, defenseless child. You move her in ways no one else can. And now, with your thanks, she believes that she is exactly what you say! To her, your word is law—because of that, she is tortured beyond belief. And though I have not known her nearly as long as you, I am certain she will remain this way! You have _**no idea **_how she reacts to anything related to you," Boromir stopped short, recalling the fragile state of the Elven princess the first time he'd conversed with her.

His pause allowed Legolas an opportunity to speak. Stepping closer to the Soldier of Gondor, said he with resentment, "Then enlighten me! See if your words mean anything."

Boromir—already furious—was pushed to the brink. "Very well, then! After she heard of your supposed death, she did not smile. She did not laugh. She was absolutely blank, isolated, secluded from the rest of the world! It was not until Faramir and I arrived that we managed to turn it around, and because of what you have said, she will revert back to that state upon her leave! And this time, you can be sure that it was _**your **_fault, and that you could've restrained your worry and anger… but you didn't. You can be sure that it wasyour error whenever word reaches your ears about the princess's fare—how she was revived for a short while before falling back to darkness."

Legolas threw his last arrow back into his quiver, his other hand darting to the dagger at his belt. It took everything he had to refrain from unsheathing it. "You have no idea what it did to _**me **_as well, Mortal. I missed her with all my heart; remember that I volunteered for her to keep her safe. But I failed, and so I said those words to _**make **_her leave. Safety of the princess is what I must ensure, especially considering how I care for her."

Disbelief overrode Boromir. "If you truly cared for her, you would be concerned with her _**happiness, **_not her safety! But you have caused her pain by allowing her to believe she is what you say—all in the name of _**safety.**_ She doesn't deserve to be protected by people like you; by people who don't really care."

That was enough—Legolas's dagger shined sliver in the air. Witnessing the gesture, Boromir did the same; the light reflecting off the metal glinted violently across the sky.

"_**NO!**_"

Both stopped short and turned to find a pale-faced Avalain supported by a shocked Faramir. She stumbled out of his grip, forcing Faramir to step forward alongside her. Despite his attempts to keep her upright, the princess fell to the ground, coughing.

Boromir and Legolas rushed forward, their hands extended to aid her in rising. Seeing that she was still too weak to move much further, they reached out to grab her arms—"Don't touch me!"

The sudden violence in Avalain's voice caused Boromir and Legolas to lurch back and forget their mutual loathing of the other. They watched with concerned eyes and confused expressions as Faramir alone was allowed to help her rise.

Leaning into Faramir—who was still shocked—she glared at the others malevolently. Seeing that their hands were extended as if to help her, she repeated, "Don't touch me!" with just as much venom as the previous warning.

Closer to her than before, the two were able to see the frightened tears in her eyes and the paleness to her cheeks. Her beauty was marred by fear and illness, though neither cared. Both were worried by how much she had witnessed.

Their fears were confirmed when she finally choked out, "How… could you? How could you fight each other like that?"

Each looked at the ground, forced to listen to Avalain's words… her voice was as harsh as a whip. "Legolas! Boromir is right. If you truly cared for me, you would rather I be happy than safe. Saying horrid things like that to me for my safety—I would rather perform a spell _**twice **_as complex to save you than hear those words again. You, my greatest friend, who has known me for so long, should know better. But after what you just did, can I call you that anymore?!"

Legolas flinched and put his head in his hands.

"And you! Boromir! You may not have known me as long, but you should remember how much I missed Legolas when I believed him to be gone. You were prepared to fight him, harm him, because of your belief that he didn't care. I care about _**both **_of you more than anyone else in this world. Knowing that you would fight each other because of _**me **_is a curse."

She stamped her foot out of frustration. Faramir lunged to catch her as she nearly fell over from the effort of the gesture. Once she was upright, she glared at the others. It was like a throwing knife—deadly, unforgiving.

"I don't want to see either of you again. I'm going home."

There was a dead pause, and then—

"Avalain, let me explain!"

"Please, Avalain—"

"_**No! **_I'm going home, and I don't want to see either of you! You best be happy knowing that you wrecked the friendships I had with you because of what has happened. If you are to lie or hurt me—even indirectly—like you just did or were prepared to do, I wish nothing to do with you! I'm finished with broken hearts, and I'm leaving. Now."

Boromir blanched; Legolas looked like the wind was knocked out of him. Both stared with wide eyes at the princess, but she had turned her gaze back to Faramir, who was also with disbelieving eyes.

"Please try not to convince me otherwise, Faramir," she murmured. "I know you object to this, but I can't be hurt anymore. Not by those I care about."

With that, she struggled to walk forward. She did not look back to see the expressions on Legolas's or Boromir's face.

Faramir looked back only once before proceeding to aid her towards the stables, where she would leave and not return.

Upon reaching the stables, Avalain allowed her face to show once more. Faramir was distraught to find it blank, unreadable… like Boromir had described whenever he'd spoken of the state he'd found her in. Tear-streaks were visible on her cheeks, though she spoke not of it.

He carried her up to her silver horse. Just before he placed her upon it, she finally managed a smile. Turning towards Faramir, she kissed him upon the forehead before saying, "I may have vowed not to see the faces of the others again, but you are different, Faramir. Please promise this will not be the last time we part… I could not bear it if I lost all three of my life's joys in one day."

Faramir gently placed her upon the horse before lightly kissing her hand. "I promise. And as you think of me as different—so I think the same of you. Perchance you can promise something for me now."

Smiling, said she, "Anything."

"Please promise me that you will remain as your title says—Avalain the Joyful. For as you could not bear to lose me, I could not stand to find you the way you have been the last thirty years."

"Do not worry, Faramir of Gondor," replied she gently. "This time, I have someone to be joyful _**for.**_"

With that, Avalain set off. She looked back to find Faramir watching her leave… though she did not see the small smile upon his face, she had one of her own.

It took a fortnight for Avalain to return home. She enjoyed the blissful moments alone with her horse, which she confided in because she knew he could keep her secrets.

Upon reaching Rivendell, she began worry that perhaps her magic _**did **_have more of an impact than she'd anticipated. Even after fourteen days, she was still dependent upon her poor horse, though he remained loyally with his mistress.

After taking her horse to the stables, Avalain barely made it up the stairs before requiring a pole to lean against. She thought wistfully of how Faramir had supported her, but then her sister glided over, a bright smile lighting her face.

"Well?" asked Arwen. "Did you see Legolas?"

Avalain's smile fell. But remembering Faramir, she smiled again. "Yes—but I met someone better."

"I believe there is much for you to tell me!" gushed Arwen.

But Avalain only laughed and exclaimed, "Not now, sister! Tomorrow, when I am rested and ready for a new day."

Arwen, witnessing her sister's toiled state, aided Avalain to her room. It was dark outside; as Arwen turned to leave, she gasped.

"What is it?" asked Avalain.

"A star has just reached Transformation," responded her sister. "Someone is going to—Avalain? Avalain?!"

Avalain collapsed on the bed, her frailty and dreams finally explained. She realized, just before it happened, that the star she'd seen in her dream was her own.


	4. Chapter 4

Arwen's scream sounded throughout the house. Her eyes were fixed upon her sister's closed eyes and gray lips. Though Avalain had not perished, Arwen knew that her sister may only be supplied with another few minutes.

Knowing time was precious, she darted down the garden steps. Arwen only stopped twice to demand, "Where is my father?!" before fleeing to find Lord Elrond, where he was discussing the state of the armory with his trusted advisors.

Up the stone steps she turned, veering sharply to the left, almost colliding with a young girl on the streets. Not pausing, the princess issued an apology over her shoulder and continued running.

Reaching her destination, she threw the door open and called, "Father!" The sounds in the next room halted for a moment before a noble entered the drawing room, where he was stunned to find the grace of Arwen Evenstar.

"My lady, you are looking for Lord Elrond?" asked he after an astonished silence. Arwen nodded in reply and exclaimed, "Please—it's important!"

At this, her father emerged, frowning. "My daughter, what is more important than this critical meeting?"

Arwen could not bring herself to answer. Instead, gasped she, "Star explosion outside; Avalain returned—pale, on the bed... _**Avalain, father…**_"

The Lord Elrond blanched as he rushed to the window, followed closely by the nobles in the room. Outside, the vibrant white was clearly visible, but even as they watched, it began to fade.

Turning back to face Arwen, whispered Lord Elrond, "That was Avalain's star?"

"_**Yes.**_"

Both bolted out of the house towards the high palace, Avalain the only thing on their minds_. _The villagers were finally brought out of their trances upon seeing their leaders running past them. Arwen barely heard one cry desperately, "The princess!"

Wails enveloped the night, but neither stopped to listen.

Finally they arrived; launching up the stairs, exclaimed Arwen, "She is through here!"

Lord Elrond stopped in the entrance to the room, for he saw what Arwen had witnessed. His youngest child was laid upon the bed, pale as the sheets surrounding her. Her lips were gray, her eyes closed and chest barely moving.

"No…"

He knelt beside her and turned to face his elder daughter. "How has this happened? She is barely nineteen."

Tears springing to her eyes, replied Arwen, "I do not know! The last thing I asked was if she found Legolas, to which she responded yes, and then I told her about the supernova, but once I turned to face her she was like this…"

There was a silence as Lord Elrond checked Avalain's pulse.

"Father…" began Arwen, her voice unsteady. "What do we do?"

"Nothing," replied he, closing his eyes. "We simply wait for the star to transform… there is nothing else we _**can **_do. Stars do not change based upon the hopes of Elves. We must wait."

Desperate, asked she, "Should I summon her friends? Gandalf? Anyone?"

Another silence occurred in which the Lord Elrond gently positioned Avalain so it looked like she was sleeping. As he placed one hand over the other, he could not ignore how cold they were.

"No," he finally responded. "If things take a turn for the worse, I'm afraid we shall have to. Undoubtedly Legolas, Gandalf, and Boromir and Faramir of Gondor will wish to see her again if—" He swallowed his next words. He refused to think as such.

"Very well," replied Arwen. With her head down, she exited the room.

Lord Elrond remained, wondering how much time his younger daughter had before the inevitable transformation would occur… he did not know that Avalain would remain this way for a very long time indeed.

"There, over to your right…"

"Does this always happen?"

"Never have I witnessed something like this before!"

Scoffing, Boromir looked away from what the rest of the Men were marveling at. It was true, the explosion of the star was beautiful, but the reactions of his fellow comrades were beginning to aggravate him. Finally, he spoke lowly to his brother, "They make such deals out of such little things."

"Remember that we are at war, brother. What beauty is offered is often increased ten-fold when surrounded by ugliness on all sides," said Faramir wisely.

Sighing, replied Boromir with a smile, "Yes, I admit you are right. Perhaps I haven't been moved as much by this explosion. But brother—have you heard the legends of stars?"

Intrigued, asked Faramir, "Legends of the stars relating to what, precisely?"

"Elves, apparently," answered Boromir. He glanced back at the explosion; its white light was as bright as a full moon. "I have heard of how Elves' lives are attached to that of a star. If a star explodes, the Elf falls unconscious and succumbs completely to the fate of the star. If it is reborn, the Elf returns to the physical world. If not, they die."

Directing his attention to the star, said Faramir, "Perhaps immortality is not everything as it seems."

"Indeed not," said another voice.

The brothers glanced to their right to find Legolas, his eyes on the explosion. Boromir scowled and turned away. Faramir, however, had had no quarrel with Legolas and therefore asked, "So it is not immortality?"

Without looking at him, said Legolas, "If the star lives on, so does the Elf. It is not pure immortality, more like… sustained life."

"If that is true, does it mean that if the Elf dies, the star is destroyed?"

"No. It is like a one way looking-glass… the star can destroy the Elf, but the Elf cannot destroy the star."

Suddenly, a new wave of white erupted from the already brilliant explosion. Startled, said Faramir, "It sounds quite depressing, to know that any moment can be your last."

"That is a problem all in this world are burdened with."

A silence enveloped as they listened to the clamors of the Men. They sounded excited to witness such a drastic and beautiful cause.

But then, said Legolas, "For some reason, I feel uneasy. This explosion does not comfort me."

"Why?" questioned Faramir. "It is not your star, is it?"

"No. If it was, I would've collapsed by now," responded Legolas, his eyes shining with starlight. Faramir could hear the discomfort in his tone when next he said, "I feel as if this is important to me. Most likely it is happening to someone I know. Do you feel the same?"

Looking back at the star, Faramir allowed himself to wonder who it could've possibly been. Even as he watched, the sounds of excited Men dimmed so that the explosion of the star appeared more somber than lovely.

"If I think about it, this ordeal unsettles me as well," said he finally. "I feel like it should mean something."

"I agree… Something is happening in the world that we should know of—except we do not." Legolas's eyes flashed, apprehension buried within his gaze.

Faramir shifted restlessly, thinking of what could possibly unsettle him. After all, everything should've been right—what with Avalain and the battles finally starting to lessen... it all should've been perfect.

Except for that fact that it wasn't.

Word spread around the city like wildfire. Within no time at all, the Elves in Rivendell were under the impression that one of their princesses only had a few short days left. By the following morning, none found the explosion beautiful, to be clamored at… all shunned it and waited for its light to fade. They bemoaned the days when Avalain Nightshade smiled and was whole.

Those days were gone now, they whispered, and would never reign again.

Days passed, and the condition of the princess did not change. Arwen was beginning to hope, and though her father wished to do the same, whenever his gaze fell upon Avalain, what little hope he had would again be suppressed by sorrow.

Because of the tragedy, no one spoke a word of their princess's fate. Therefore, the knowledge that the exploding star was Avalain's was kept rather quiet, a matter passed around only by the Elves in Rivendell and Lothlórien.

One argument that Arwen continued to resurface to her father was the summoning of Gandalf the Gray. She persisted that he might be able to aid them, and that he was a friend of both Lord Elrond's and Avalain's, but still Lord Elrond said there was nothing to be done even if he _**did **_arrive.

"My daughter, not even Gandalf would be able to cure Avalain," he reminded her gently. "Her fate is completely dependent on the star's. There is no spell to exempt that."

"Then at _**least **_allow me to send word to the three in Gondor," she pleaded. "We do not know—it might strengthen Avalain. And even if it does not, they have a right to know. The rate word is spreading, they will know in another hundred years, if even!"

But each time, Lord Elrond would silence her, if only for another short day.

Time continued to pass—weeks, and then months. The Elves were beginning to hope, and many spoke of how Avalain was fighting for control of her own fate.

Lord Elrond and Arwen were still grieved about Avalain's change, but they had begun to think perhaps the star would be reborn. Both knew of star transformations; if they became black holes, it took only a few days to a few months. That time was ending—they were almost certain she would be all right.

Gossip began to spread at quadruple the pace it had the previous weeks. Soon enough, travelers gained word and spread it around… and whilst the information was still mainly distributed to Elves, a few Mortals had heard as well and were speaking in hushed tones to their families back in their homes… if the rate of gossip continued, Faramir, Boromir, and Legolas would've heard about Avalain in another month.

But as it was, with the war continuing to brew in Gondor, Mortals had other things to talk about besides a Rivendell princess. Conversation of the Shadow in the East became a more popular topic, and because of the blasphemy constantly spoken of in such conversations, the whole blather about the Princess of Rivendell was completely pushed from their minds.

It was because of this that the three still did not receive word of their friend.

More months passed. It was nine months to the day in which Avalain had left Gondor, and Faramir was worried. He had managed to send letters—for he was becoming ever the more burdened with war councils—to his dear Avalain, though she had never responded. He did not know the exact distance between the Elven City of Rivendell and the Mortal Country of Gondor, but he was certain that she would have replied by now.

Multiple times, he almost brought it up with his brother, but at the last moment he would recall the way Boromir and Avalain had parted, and Faramir would abstain… only to wonder if he should speak anyway a mere couple days later.

Finally, Faramir felt compelled to speak his mind. "Brother, do you believe that Avalain is well?"

Boromir stopped sparring with his brother and glanced warily at him. Choosing his words carefully, he asked, "Why do you ask? She must have returned to Rivendell. And of course, I have not heard from her. Have you, in turn?"

"No, that is what worries me," replied Faramir, replacing his sword in its scabbard. "I do not know if something ails her, for she promised me that she would remain as her title says. Does this not worry you?"

"It does. But I am not entitled a place to be _**allowed **_to worry, if you recall," said Boromir, drawing his dagger and throwing it towards the nearest target—of course, it left its mark in the bulls-eye.

Undaunted, said Faramir, "I believe that is where you are wrong. Before leaving, she had told me to speak with her every now and then, because she could not bear to lose all three of her life's joys in one day. That was precisely what she said—she loves us all. And I believe that she would rejoice to find you again, if we were to see if she was all right."

Sighing, said Boromir, "I will not deny that I wish to see both Avalain and the fair City of Rivendell again. But we cannot; the war is growing worse, and we are called upon at least twice each day—"

At this, Faramir laughed bitterly and muttered, "Don't remind me."

Smiling slightly, continued Boromir, "And our sense of duty is here. But I have another idea. Her sister, Arwen Evenstar, is her greatest companion. If something has happened to Avalain, the quickest way we can find out is by writing to _**her**_. It would allow us—well, you—to contact Avalain while remaining here."

Nodding, said Faramir, "That shall work. And though I've never spoken of it before—that star explosion nearly nine months ago left me anxious. Legolas felt the same. He said that it felt as if it was related to someone he knew."

Boromir laughed, though uneasily. "Brother, there are millions of stars in the universe. How can we believe that the _**one **_that exploded belongs to Avalain?"

"Unless we attempt to contact Arwen Evenstar, we cannot be sure," replied Faramir, gathering his weapons. Picking them up, added he over his shoulder, "And I plan to be sure Avalain is well."

Sheathing his own weaponry, called Boromir, "Be sure to alert me of your findings, brother. Although we may not have parted well, I still wish to be sure of her well-being."

With this, the brothers went their separate ways, each with Avalain upon their minds.

The small pile of letters astounded Arwen—normally, Avalain could be found writing, writing, writing to all those whom she did not see. Of course, Arwen respected her sister's privacy, and therefore she had not opened any of the letters. Still, she was quite bothered by how little people attempted to contact her.

Sighing, she sat next to her pale sister. Avalain had not changed since she had collapsed upon the bed ten months ago, what seemed like an eternity. A while back, Arwen had been certain her sister would be spared, but now she was not so sure. Not one Elf in history had gone in a coma this long when their star was Transforming… and _**still, **_her father would not allow her to write to Gandalf.

Riffing through the letters on Avalain's bedside, Arwen noticed something strange—a minor detail, but something she felt she should know. Other than the fact that there were only eight letters, there was something else…

Then she spotted it. "They're all the same handwriting."

Going through them, she saw it was true… and what was stranger was that noneof them were from Legolas. Arwen recognized Legolas's handwriting well… When she realized this, her curiosity finally got the better of her.

Though she knew her sister would've disapproved, Arwen took the most recent letter between her fingertips. Delicately, she slit the top and pulled out the paper within. It looked like the letter had been written in a hurry:

Dear Avalain,

I do not know what has been occurring in Rivendell, but I regret to say that the war is steadily growing worse. We are no closer to defeating the enemy since you arrived, and it is troubling us greatly.

Often I wonder if you have received these letters, for I have heard nothing in response. If you are still angry with Boromir and Legolas, please know that despite your parting, they still care very much about you, as I do.

I believe there's something you're keeping from us; something we should know about. Like I said in my last letter, please tell us the truth, Avalain. We all miss and worry about you, and seeing as you haven't been heard from by anyone here, we are starting to worry… I've been concerned about you for a long time.

If I do not hear anything from you in another month, I fear that I shall be forced to accept the suspicions I have already spoken of, and the only way to discover the truth is to find out from someone else.

Please, Avalain… if you are well, tell me.

Faramir

Arwen set the letter down with shaking hands. They knew _**something **_was wrong. But something was odd. Yanking the letter back up, she reread the words thrice before identifying what was strange.

_"If you are still angry with Boromir and Legolas, please know that despite your parting, they still care very much about you, as I do…"_

"Oh, Avalain…" sighed Arwen sadly, glancing at her sister, "What happened? You never received the chance to tell me…"

As she sat the letter down, her sadness grew. Other things attracted Arwen's attention—the suspicions of Faramir, the subtle hint of what he was to do next if he received no response, the feud between Avalain, Legolas, and Boromir… Arwen closed her eyes, thinking of how she'd never heard the full tale of her sister's journey to Gondor.

_What previous suspicions does Faramir speak of?_ thought Arwen uncomfortably. After thinking for a moment, she pulled another letter towards her and prepared to open it—

But then there was a tapping at the glass. Arwen turned to see a bluebird hopping along the windowsill, a letter attached to its leg.

Once she pulled the window open, the bird paused just long enough to allow the princess to detach the letter from its leg before flying away. Arwen's shock was great when she saw that it was addressed to _**her. **_

Gently relieving the paper from its contents, she unfolded the letter and began to read, aware that the handwriting of this letter was the same as the handwriting on Avalain's…

Arwen Evenstar,

Though we may have met for only a short time, I remember your name and face. I do not know if you remember mine or my brother's, but Legolas, I believe, has been your friend as long as he has been Avalain's.

The three of us are all worried about your sister… she was not in good health when she left, upon using wizard's magic to save our lives. We fear that because of this, she may not have returned safely or perhaps is quite ill now. Though she did not part well with Legolas and Boromir, they still care for her very much, and we have all been desperate to hear the truth; since we have received no word from her, we are forced with no choice but to ask you.

I feel that you deserve to know what we are afraid of. Ten months ago, we witnessed the star explosion up in the sky. Boromir spoke of a legend that told of the relation between Elves' lives and the stars; Legolas confirmed it. Both of us had felt something was wrong—like we didn't know something we should've. And our greatest fear nowis that it was Avalain's star that night, despite there being millions.

Arwen Evenstar, you are our last hope at the truth. If Avalain is unwell, please inform us of it, for we all love her as much as you do. And if she is well… then let her know that even if she is angry with us, we will always be here should she need us.

Faramir

"Oh, no," murmured Arwen, reading the letter. She never believed that anyone who hadn't heard about her sister would piece it together… but apparently, Legolas, Boromir, and Faramir _**had.**_

And now they needed her for the truth.

Glancing out of the room, Arwen looked down the hall to see if her father was coming, for although it had been ten months, he hadn't summoned or contacted anyone to help despite her persistence.

But she was done submitting to her father. She had wanted to contact them since day one, and Arwen was quite finished with obedience.

Pulling out a piece of paper and a bottle of ink Avalain kept in her bedside drawer, Arwen was sure to check that her father was not nearby before writing.

It was two weeks since Faramir had sent the letter to Arwen Evenstar. He told Boromir and Legolas of what he had done. They all awaited Arwen's response, for Legolas was certain she would reply. His assurance comforted both Boromir and Faramir, despite the thriving enmity between the former two.

But now that time was beginning to pass, they were less hopeful than the previous week. There had been no answer for a long while; according to Legolas, it took four or five days for a letter to send to Rivendell.

Faramir was currently practicing archery—he found that since Avalain had instructed him, it was his strongest area. The practice, however, often resurfaced memories of her visit, which would cause him to think about Avalain all over again, and would ultimately lead him towards a headache. But he trained nonetheless.

He did not notice the little owl until it landed on his shoulder and hooted. Startled, he lowered his bow and gently grabbed the owl—it was so small it easily fit in his palm.

That was when he noticed the letter attached to its leg. Hardly daring to believe it might be Arwen or Avalain, he received it as swiftly as he could without hurting the owl.

Before he read it, however, he rushed off in search of Boromir—Legolas was just to his right.

"Legolas!" called Faramir. "There has been a response!"

For once, Legolas didn't mind that his arrow missed the bulls-eye. Instead, he rushed towards Faramir and said, "What does it say?"

"I know not, but we must find Boromir. Undoubtedly he will strangle us both if we read it without him," said Faramir. Legolas scowled, but nodded once and set off beside Faramir anyway.

It did not take very long to find him—per regulations, Boromir was to be found in the swords training, where he was sparring heatedly against the instructor. Truthfully, however, it was no competition as to who was better.

Seeing his brother, Boromir told his instructor, "We'll leave off here," before rushing out to meet them. Faramir only stopped to grin and say, "I don't believe he'll be wishing to fight _**you **_anytime soon," before showing him the letter.

Finally opening it, Faramir was first to read.

Dear Faramir, Boromir, and Legolas,

Things are not well here, as things are not well in your country. I am afraid that Faramir, your suspicions have been correct all along… it was indeed Avalain's star that exploded, and she has been unconscious and pale for nearly a year now. Whilst I do not know of the feud that has occurred between Avalain, Legolas, and Boromir, I know that she still cares for you all very much… if she were conscious, I would bet anything that the first people she asks for shall be you.

My father does not believe anyone can save her. Her star is still undecided with its Transformation, but with this much elapsed time, we are beginning to fear for the worst. Though I have managed to contact you without my father knowing, I fully doubt I will be able to reach Gandalf the Gray; although each day I have told my father that the wizard can be of some aid, but he does not believe it. His spirits are tarnishing… we have not spoken with others for a very long time out of sorrow.

I do not know if Avalain will be all right. I wish I could reassure you she will be fine, but I cannot. You wished for the truth. And whilst Avalain may have no idea what time passes while she remains this way, I feel that if she understands what is going on, she will be stronger if you three come to Rivendell.

And, I am sorry… but even if she does know you are here, I fear that if you come, it might just be to say goodbye.

Yours in hope, Arwen Evenstar

"That it might just be to say goodbye…" repeated Boromir, staring at the letter. All three exchanged panicked looks, wondering just how Avalain—the kindest spirit any of them had ever met—could simply be _**gone.**_

The first to move was Faramir, who pressed the letter into Legolas's hands. He began to walk away, and the others only moved after Boromir called, "Where are you going, brother?"

His response was, "To Rivendell!"

That jarred the others, who rushed after Faramir and accompanied him to the stables. Ignoring the questions of the Men about where they were going, they immediately set off towards the hidden valley, where somewhere, Avalain Nightshade was lying and perhaps wondering where they were.

Eight days later, Legolas, Boromir, and Faramir were riding through the silver gates of Rivendell. They had ridden relentlessly, often well into the night. They had only stopped for food and rest for the horses. Even so, Legolas was beyond worried that they might be too late…

Once the trio reached the garden, they came across Arwen Evenstar, who wore a black shawl and had her head down in sorrow.

"Where is she?" asked Legolas.

Arwen's head jerked up hopefully. Sighed she in relief, "Just through here… she's been this way for eleven months now…"

While they rushed through the halls, asked Legolas with detectable concern, "Do you really believe she might… leave us?"

There was a short silence until finally the elder princess replied, "I refuse to believe she will perish. If anyone deserves to live, it is she. But sometimes, fate is cruel. I do not know what will happen, Legolas…"

"She will be all right in the end," said Boromir, but he too seemed unsure.

It was then they reached Avalain's room. As Legolas looked down upon her, he was perfectly aware that he should have known it was Avalain in danger whenever that star had exploded. Seeing her so pale and cold, he could not believe that she might leave him forever. She appeared so fragile… so faint compared to the rest of the world. He could not believe that just a year ago, she had been laughing and very much alive.

The voices of Arwen and Boromir mulled over, becoming background noise to Legolas. He was focused completely on Avalain—his greatest friend, if he was allowed to be called that.

Kneeling next to her, he whispered, "Avalain, do not succumb to the darkness. I do not know if you are able to hear me, but if you are, do not leave us. Do not leave _**me**_. I needyou… And imagine if you died, if the last things I said to you were that you were a child, weak and foolish… I've never been so wrong in my life."

Looking into her unmoving face, he continued sorrowfully, "You are everything a person should be. Kind, joyful, strong, independent. I was wrong to say what I did—I've regretted it ever since. If you could find it inside yourself to forgive me… and I will not blame you if you do not… I would simply like to call you my dearest friend, one last time. If you can hear me, know that I am sorry… for everything."

He then rose and exited the room, paying no mind to the others, who had heard what he said and were watching him even as he left.

Faramir always knew that Legolas was in love with Avalain—though he didn't say so outright, it was in his eyes and voice. He remembered the expression on Legolas's face when Avalain claimed she never wanted to see him again.

All the same, he could not help but realize how little the information changed his feelings for her_**. **_She was unconscious, pale, freezing, and probably too far gone to hear his words, but even now she was still remarkably beautiful.

He hardly listened to Boromir and Arwen trying to convince the other that Avalain would come back in the end. He himself could not partake in this because the possibility of her death was still open. She might leave him mourning her.

Faramir was silent for a long time. For a couple hours he remained even though the others were dining. Hunger did not draw at him. Avalain's face held his attention.

Finally, taking her hand, said he, "I may not have known you long, Avalain, but I refuse to believe you will die. I _**know **_you will triumph over this. You are a strong, compassionate person. And I am certain you can hear me. I'm simply here to make you stronger and see your eyes open once more… I just wish I could've been here for you the moment you needed it."

He kissed her forehead, recalling how she had done that to him before she left Gondor… At that moment, Avalain began shaking and gasping as if she couldn't breathe.

"Arwen!" shouted he, hoping that she was within earshot. "She stirs!"

A montage of people rushed into the room. Arwen was at the head, practically skidding to a stop. Lord Elrond was present, his eyes filled with worry. Boromir and Legolas darted past on the other side; all watched apprehensively for what was to come.

"How long does she stay like this?" asked Arwen.

The Lord Elrond shook his head somberly. "I do not know."

Avalain was gasping now, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her eyes were still closed, but Faramir could perfectly picture her amber eyes. He kept her hand in his own…

Gradually, her gasps subsided, and she began to relax. Her breathing grew deeper, and though this normally would've comforted him, Faramir could hear the unsteadiness within it.

He was only able to touch her face and murmur, "Avalain," before she stopped breathing completely.

After everything that has happened, _thought Avalain, _I will not be taken away from those whom I love. Those who love _**me. **_

T_he only thing visible to Avalain was her star, a mass of scattered white dots floating in space. She could speak, but not be heard. She could feel and think freely, the worst curse she could've been given. Yet Avalain believed it was justified after such a horrendous farewell—it was atonement for making her loved ones suffer._

_ Suddenly, darkness was about her. The floating specks of light disappeared as black masses swirled around and around, gradually forming a black hole… The effort to resist the black hole was blinding. It was like she had performed a wizard's spell that was twice as complicated as the one she had used eleven months past, but without the aid of her energy._

_ The black hole continued forming. Tears welled up in her eyes remembering the last words she'd spoken to him and Boromir. After eleven long and lonely months, Avalain had thought of the incident so much, she felt as if her heart would burst knowing that she might never have the chance to apologize for everything she said. _

_ She wished for nothing except to take it back._

_ She looked up to the sky. Millions of other stars twinkled above her, all bright; intact. _

_ Focusing on each face of her loved ones—her father, Aragorn, Gandalf, Arwen, Boromir, Faramir, Legolas… she smiled. Then, taking a deep breath, she said, "I'm sorry… I love you."_

_ A bright light suddenly blinded Avalain, and _she sat bolt upright, launched out of the blackness and into someone's awaiting arms.


	5. Chapter 5

There was a clamor as Avalain gasped and flew into someone's arms. The others were cheering—her sister was positively crying out of sheer relief. Though none of them knew it, the noise from the palace was so joyous that the Elves heard the commotion and realized that their princess had returned. Bells rung throughout Rivendell, and many shouted up well-wishes and thanks to the stars.

Avalain's eyes closed, for her tears were still with her. She threw her arms around Boromir; the Elven princess realized that she was free again.

She smiled at Boromir and exclaimed, "You came! I am so sorry; I have never regretted anything more than what I said to you and—Legolas!" Avalain had just seen him with closed eyes and a hand over his heart, with an uncontrollable smile over his face.

Throwing her legs out of the bed, she nearly toppled over upon attempting to stand. Legolas was broken from his trance as he caught her, and he held her to him as he murmured, "I have never been so glad to see anyone before in my life."

Legolas could not help but continue smiling as Arwen threw her arms around her sister, clamoring about how relieved she was to see her little sister alive. They swayed and laughed as close sisters do, expressing their joy with laughter.

Next, Lord Elrond appeared, and Avalain could not hold back her excited, "Father!" Holding her tightly, the Lord of the City stroked her hair and told her of how much she had been missed by all.

Avalain then saw Faramir standing to her left. A very sincere smile came upon her face, and she threw her arms around him as well. Said she, "I knew you would be here… I knew you would come."

Faramir smiled as her head rested on his shoulder. Though certainly things were bound to change, he was glad for this moment with her. Holding her reassuringly, replied he, "I would not have missed this for the world, Avalain."

Avalain placed one hand upon the bed, for she was still weak on her feet. But before any of the others could come towards her, Arwen darted over to her sister and placed one of Avalain's arms over her shoulders.

Sensing their moods, smiled Arwen wryly, "No, sirs, it is my turn to support my sister. Which reminds me—_**you **_have a lot to tell me." This last was directed towards Avalain, who smiled and restrained from rolling her eyes.

"Very _**well, **_Arwen. I suppose my time is up," responded Avalain. Together, the sisters walked out of the room to exchange stories.

After informing her sister of what happened in Gondor, Avalain was finally allowed to find the others. She found herself in the garden. It appeared that she was not alone.

"Legolas," said she tranquilly, smiling at her friend.

From gazing at the sky, he turned to look at her and reflected the smile… Avalain noticed the wistfulness inside of it. Legolas rose and aided her in walking towards a bench so she might sit.

"You look troubled," remarked she. But he did not reply, leaving Avalain wondering what the matter was. It was not until another moment later that she saw what he was looking at—the place where the star explosion had occurred now held a bright new star in its place, shining brighter than all the others.

"Avalain… you had ceased breathing," murmured he, gazing into her eyes. "We had all believed you to be dead, and I—I was—we all were—inconsolable. Have you known the time we have been here?"

Looking into his eyes, replied she, "Yes. You arrived this evening… I heard you come in."

Legolas turned away from her. "Then… you heard everything," said he slowly. "You know what it is I said."

"Yes. I heard every word. I wish you could've heard mine… but alas, you could not."

"Why do you say so?" asked he, still observing the newest star in the sky.

Before answering, Avalain waited until Legolas focused upon her. When at last she held his attention, replied she, "Because I was calling your name—I wished to speak to you. I wished to tell you that I regretted speaking the way I did to you in Gondor, and that throughout this year, the voice I missed most was yours."

Legolas watched her carefully as she spoke, focusing on her eyes. Avalain noticed the hope flashing through his eyes when she spoke. She could see that he was smiling, if only just—the corners of his mouth turned upward.

Yet another thought came into his mind that pushed aside his happiness for a moment. "And what about Boromir and Faramir? You have admitted we are three of your life's joys."

"Indeed I have," said she. "I will not deny that I care for them very deeply. But you, Legolas, have always been there for me. As much as I love you all, you will always be the first I think of, because it is you whom I've loved the longest."

After that night in the garden, a week passed before Boromir and Faramir returned to Gondor. It was a long farewell for Avalain, who had always been glad each morning to see their faces. Though she was sad to see them leave, a spark of joy remained with her knowing that Legolas would not return to the battlefield, for he had claimed that not an army of Orcs would force him to return.

Life returned to normalcy after the brothers' leave, with Legolas alongside her at last. Arwen's joy upon realizing that her sister was alive and well still did not diminish even two years afterward. Arwen was _**also **_not letting the whole experience go, what with Avalain's use of wizard magic. Avalain then began wondering aloud where Gandalf had gone off to—and Aragorn, while she thought.

"Speaking of, I haven't seen Aragorn for quite a few years… five now, if I remember rightly," said Avalain. "He's never been gone this long. What _**is **_it with people wishing to stay away from me of late? First it was Gandalf, and now it's—"

Avalain did not finish her sentence, which was just as well, for Arwen and Legolas were laughing. But their outbursts were not what distracted the younger princess from her spiel. She had heard a familiar voice proclaim, "Whoa!" and heard the sounds of hooves outside.

The others heard the sound as well, and each turned towards the door, wondering who was outside the palace. Lord Elrond was in his room, writing letters to the nobles over the valley, for they hadn't had a meeting since Avalain's coma.

Walking towards the entrance of the palace, questioned Avalain before the person was visible, "Has someone arrived?" But suddenly, she gasped and laughed. "I was just thinking of you, Gandalf!"

The wizard was patting his horse and glancing up towards the entrance of the Rivendell palace. Gandalf wore his standard robes of gray and pointed wizard's hat, and in his hand was his staff, the tip of which glowed brightly with energy.

"Ah! Avalain!" exclaimed the wizard as she bounded down the steps towards him. "It has been many years. Incidentally, you are who I am looking for—I had hoped the rumors of your star reborn were true. I am sorry I could not have come sooner… I have been rather busy of late. But that is not the reason I am here. You see, I require your help with something—"

"Not until I speak with you, wizard," interrupted Legolas, who stood behind her. Avalain was very grateful that Gandalf and Legolas were good friends, for if they weren't, she would've been quite worried about what Legolas's fate would've been. Wizards did not like being interrupted.

Feigning surprise, said Gandalf, "But of course! What is on your mind?"

"A certain spell you taught Avalain a long while back," answered the Elf. "It nearly consumed her life, even with a hundred years' worth of energy."

"Ah, that," murmured Gandalf, a certain twinkle in his eye. Standing taller out of pride, he turned towards Avalain. "And how exactly did that go? I heard of your use of it in the Fields of Pelennor, and I shall admit, I never dreamed that you might actually use it… and to live to tell the tale! Very well done, my pupil."

Giggling, answered Avalain, "I must say, no one expected me to perform wizardly magic. But I pulled it off in the end."

"And never do it again," grumbled Legolas as he crossed his arms and scowled. Avalain, however, knew he wasn't angry about it anymore.

Smiling, resumed Gandalf, "If that is settled… Avalain, there is an important message I must deliver to you. Alone, if possible. I can only trust so many people with it."

"Are you sure you do not wish for me to summon my father?" asked Avalain dubiously. Lord Elrond and Gandalf the Gray were great friends; they often performed dangerous tasks side-by-side.

Shaking his head, responded the wizard, "No, Avalain. This task I must entrust to _**you, **_and you alone. There is only one other who knows about this—he shall be waiting for you if you decide to take up this mission I have prepared."

Legolas and Arwen latched onto the wizard's every word since they were not to be told this information. Avalain turned towards them. "I shall meet up with you momentarily. Please wait for me." She watched them leave before asking, "Are you to tell my father about my leave if it requires traveling?"

Gandalf nodded and held out a letter. "You may leave this in his custody and allow him to read it. Do not worry—if all goes well, this shall not bode ill. At any rate, let us proceed to somewhere we cannot be overheard."

He stalked off into the garden, leaving Avalain to follow. She did until she figured they were well hidden, and then she questioned, "What is so important that you have come all the way here to speak it? Are you sure you do not wish to come inside and rest for a while?"

"No, Avalain, I'm afraid I must rush out immediately after delivering this message. Again, if all goes well, I shall see you quite soon. Now, this is something you cannot tell anyone for now—not even your sister or Legolas, is that understood?

"Good," harrumphed he, for she had nodded. "Where to begin? Ah, of course; you remember all I have told you about the Dark Days? You recall the lessons I taught you about the Dark Lord and his Ring of Power? I daresay you remember Dol Guldur, his old fortress, as you have seen it yourself. And you, Avalain, are one of few who know that Sauron has returned.

"Now, sixty years ago—you remember Thorin Oakenshield's company?"

"Gandalf, I am not likely to forget," responded Avalain darkly. A fleeting image of a young, blond Dwarf filled her mind… _Fili, _she thought, sadness draping her.

The wizard looked sad. "And so you recall the hobbit Bilbo Baggins? During his travels, he encountered the creature Gollum, who had the Ring. This much you already know. But what I have just uncovered is that Bilbo Baggins found and__took the Ring.__Right now, he is on his way here to refresh himself before setting off for the places he journeyed to all those years ago. And now, he has left the Ring in the care of his nephew, Frodo Baggins.

"We hid this information very well this past year, but now evil things are stirring in Mordor… having traveled to Gondor, you should know that fires are brewing, and countless Orcs rally to the Black Gates to aid the Dark Lord. But the worst part is that the Nine have returned and are hunting the Ring even as we speak."

Avalain gasped. Disbelief tore at her mind, but reason took over… it would explain so much, she realized. Finally, said she, "Gandalf… are you completely positive you wish to tell _**me **_these things? I am only a Rivendell princess!"

"Yes, it is to be you, Avalain. I've thought this for a long time now," said Gandalf, smiling somberly. "But there is more. The Nine are after the Ring, and though Aragorn and I hunted the creature Gollum for many months, the Enemy found him first… and now the Nine are sure that the Ring is in the hands of Baggins, in a land called the Shire."

"But that would lead them straight to Frodo!" exclaimed Avalain. "We must stop them!"

"Alas, I have already sent Frodo to the village of Bree. I have promised to meet him at the inn of the Prancing Pony, but I fear I shall not be able to do so. Instead, _**you **_shall meet him at the inn, if you are to accept. But neither you nor Frodo shall be alone—Aragorn already lies in wait. Together, you are to guide Frodo and his gardener, Samwise Gamgee, to Rivendell. Here they shall be safe, and once the matter of the Ring is decided in council, they shall be free from burden. I need your help, Avalain. All you must do is find Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee and lead them here."

"Tell me about Frodo Baggins so that I may recognize him on sight," said Avalain.

"Like all hobbits, he shall be short. He has brown, curly hair and blue eyes. His assistant is taller and stouter, with blond curls and brown eyes. They are often inseparable—and Frodo Baggins shall disguise himself as Frodo Underhill. Their arrival will be in two weeks, if all goes well."

Closing her eyes to remember the details, replied Avalain, "Very well. But at least let me deliver the letter to my father and tell him that I shall be gone for a while."

"Understood. As it is, I shall leave now. I must travel to Isengard and see what Saruman says about this ordeal," ushered Gandalf. "Good luck, Avalain."

"And to you," responded she; together they set out of the garden. But whereas Gandalf mounted his horse and left, Avalain dashed up the stairs, where her sister and Legolas were waiting.

Before they could speak, exclaimed she, "I shall be traveling for a month or so! I need you to remain here to await my return—but I shall not be alone. Aragorn and two hobbits shall be accompanying me. It is important that you know if we do not return within the next three months, things have gone horribly wrong and you must alert Gandalf immediately."

As she spoke, she burst open the door to her father's room. Lord Elrond looked up as Avalain shoved the letter upon his desk and repeated, "I shall be traveling for a month or so."

"A month?" asked Lord Elrond, observing the letter warily. "Why the urgency?"

"Gandalf has arrived and informed me with dreadful news," replied she.

"Gandalf? Where is he?" questioned her father.

"Gone already. He has many urgent matters upon his hands, and I promised I'd help with one. It is very important that I ride to the village of Bree. Aragorn is waiting for me there, and I am to transport two hobbits with us, but Father, they… well, I'll simply let you read the letter. I must leave. Now."

Her father only stopped her to say, "If you are to go to Bree, be careful, my daughter. Some say the folk there are kind, some say otherwise. Find Aragorn as quickly as you can."

She nodded and rushed for the door. "If I do not return in three months, alert Gandalf!"

Avalain was then halted by Legolas. "Avalain, I can travel with you. I don't want you in danger—"

Avalain stopped his words by kissing his forehead and saying, "Trust me, dear Legolas. I can bring the hobbits back to Rivendell if Aragorn is alongside me. Together, we can best any that come across our path."

With that, she hastened to the stables and threw herself onto her steed. Without delay, they barreled down the path towards the west, where the village of Bree stood.

As soon as Avalain entered the village of Bree, she knew__she was in trouble.

Luckily, she had her cloak; though she used it to veil her face, it did not do much good, for her horse was constantly marveled at. She even heard one Man say, "That is no Mortal horse. I've heard of Elves, but never have I imagined one coming to Bree!"

Finding the inn of the Prancing Pony, Avalain was instantly engaged by a short, smiling hobbit who offered to stable her horse. She knew he was not one of the two she was looking for.

Once inside, she was grateful for how crowded the inn was. Men were drinking and laughing among their kin, so only two saw her enter. One was the cheerful barkeeper, whose mouth dropped open upon seeing her face.

"I'd like a room," said she, dropping a few coins onto the counter. "Any shall do."

"Very—very well, then!" stammered the barkeeper. "If—if you could please give me just a few moments, I'm a very busy man! If you would like to settle down for five minutes, I shall be with you in just a moment."

Avalain proceeded to the bar area, where she was decided to find a chair by the wall. As she passed a corner, she did not see the Man sitting there until she heard his low voice say, "It is not very often that an Elf travels to Bree."

Without turning to look at the Man, responded Avalain, "I could say the same about Rangers from the North."

"Fair enough," replied he. "But I must say this much… never before has an Elven _**princess **_come to Bree."

Avalain was thankful he had lowered his voice, for many had noticed her by now. Some were pointing and whispering, some were observing her skeptically. But she did not mind—on the contrary, she smiled and turned to face the Ranger.

"No rarer than a Mortal _**king **_who has yet to show his face," whispered Avalain, seeing the familiar glint of blue under his cloak.

Neither could resist their smiles any longer. They simultaneously broke into grins, and Aragorn began to laugh. Placing his hands on her arms, muttered he, "You haven't changed at all, I see."

"Well, time only affects me so much," smirked she. She then lowered her voice so only he could hear. "I assume you would like to be called something other than your true name?"

"Indeed. Around Bree, my name is Strider," said he with a crooked smile.

Avalain laughed, gathering the remaining attention from those whose had not yet noticed her. Not many women were present in the Prancing Pony, a fact that the Elven princess was quick to notice. But now that she and Aragorn were reunited, it did not bother her.

Smiling, said Aragorn, "Come, Avalain, and sit down. I presume that you know no one else present… at any rate, what brings you here?"

With a short laugh, answered she, "Well, he goes by many names. For now, I believe I shall call him 'Trouble.' But by the common folk, his name is Gandalf."

Aragorn nodded. "Then we are here on common purpose. To await the arrival of two hobbits, correct?"

"Indeed," replied she. "How long have you been here?"

Thoughtfully, responded Aragorn, "A week and a half. Nothing exciting has happened, unless you count village gossip and fights between drunks. Each time, I see bags of money passed around behind others backs. Some of these Men have a very bad gambling problem…"

And so the night continued, but the hobbits they were awaiting did not show. In fact, nine days later, Avalain and Aragorn still had not seen them.

On the tenth evening, Avalain sighed and said quietly, "I'm parched. Water?"

Aragorn shook his head. "No, but you go on ahead. I shall keep watching."

Nodding, Avalain rose and walked towards the bar. Per regulations, her movements captured the attention of the sober Men… actually, thought she sourly, even the drunks knew that she was up and about. But refusing to meet anyone's eyes except for Butterbur's and Aragorn's, she walked up to the bar and said to Butterbur, "Just water, please."

The innkeeper hastened to obey, but again—he was a very busy man and had multiple previous customers to satisfy. Giving her an apologetic smile, he bustled off to deliver pints of drink to the Men who had ordered beforehand, leaving Avalain to wait.

There was a faint ringing of the doorbell to let her know that others had arrived, but she did not turn to look. Somewhat behind her, she heard a fair voice call, "Excuse me?"

The innkeeper hastened to make his way towards he who had arrived. Before Avalain could turn to see who had just entered—certainly he wasn't a local, the people in Bree were not fair-voiced—a Man sidled up to her right.

Avalain turned away from him as a clear indication she did not want to talk, but he spoke anyway. "I've noticed you've been around for a while."

She said nothing.

"Tell me, pretty one, what is your business here in little old Bree?"

"My business here is my own matter," retorted she coldly. "I am simply waiting for someone."

"Waiting for someone?" repeated the Man. Avalain stiffened—he was drunk. His words were slurred and his eyes didn't focus for too long before he would have to blink. "Your fiancé's already here."

"He isn't who I'm waiting for," replied Avalain coolly, not anxious to say that Aragorn wasn't her lover. That might remove her only line of defense. She hoped he would appear if things turned nasty.

The Man hiccupped and began to speak again, but Avalain wasn't listening. She had stiffened; she heard the words, "Underhill. My name is Underhill."

Avalain tried to look over, but the Man grabbed her face and turned her to look at him. Slapping him hard across the face, she snarled, "Don't touch me."

The way the Man had grabbed her, however, made her cloak fall to her shoulders. She hurried to put it back up around her face, but too late. The Men had seen her face for the first time since she'd arrived, and many of them whispered how it _**was **_an Elf girl meeting the Ranger from the North in Bree.

"Ah, feisty little thing, aren't you?" slurred the Man. He reached out to grab her face again, but she growled and whipped out a dagger.

Laughed the Man, "Oh, darling, you aren't going to use that. I'd like to see you try it."

"Is there a problem?"

Aragorn had finally appeared, and Avalain turned to him gratefully yet with annoyance that it took him so long. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see another watching her, but she didn't look to see who.

Again, the Man laughed. "That depends. Who is she? Surely she's not your wench?"

Said Aragorn shortly, "That is none of your concern."

"Oh," replied the Man, but an evil smile had come upon his lips. "Is that so."

"Indeed it is," said Avalain coldly. "Now leave us alone. I would prefer to exit this part of the bar without there being bloodshed. But so help me, I will resort to such measures if necessary."

"Why doesn't this Man prove you're his wench? Then I'll leave you alone."

_Oh, here it comes, _thought Avalain as she glared daggers at the Man. It didn't help her temper that all the others in the bar were watching them like they watched the drunken fights that erupted around the village every other night.

With piercing eyes, snarled Avalain, "You, Mortal Man, are a complete—" Unfortunately, she never got to finish her sentence, for Aragorn, knowing the Man wouldn't leave either__of them alone, kissed her purely to shut him up_**.**_

__"Why don't you leave us alone now?" asked Aragorn, glaring evilly at the Man out of the corner of his eye.

Sulkily, the Man left.

Turning to face Aragorn, whispered Avalain, "Why did you do that?"

"You don't know the Men here like I do," replied he softly. "He would have followed you until I killed him, and I figured bloodshed was a little unnecessary. Stage kiss, Avalain. And for the record—you are _**not**_ allowed to tell Arwen about that."

"Agreed. Keep quiet around Legolas."

"Deal. Wait, are you promised to Legolas now?"

"Well—not officially—I don't _**know! **_It's a long story."

"No time for long stories. We are able to finally leave this place."

Avalain turned to see what he was gesturing towards, and she couldn't help but sigh in relief. At the table to her right sat four hobbits—one of them had curly brown hair and blue eyes… she was certain it was he who had said his name was Underhill.

She caught him looking at her, and the hobbit flushed and looked away. Obviously he had seen the dispute a minute ago.

Aragorn spoke first. "You try and make nice with the hobbits. I have a rather rascally appearance, have I not? You, on the other hand, can shock anyone into doing what you want just by lowering your cloak."

"That better have been sarcastic," growled Avalain.

"Don't worry, it was. I'll make sure no one tries to bother you, how about that? Besides, I feel like the hobbits won't trust me."

Nodding, she took her water from the counter. Glancing at the hobbits once more, she found another one watching her. He was a thin, blond hobbit with mischievous eyes—but that sense of trickery dimmed as she locked eyes with him. Almost self-consciously, he pushed his tankard of drink away and watched as Avalain came up and asked, "Mind if I join you?"

The other three hobbits looked up, startled. They exchanged looks until the brunet hobbit with blue eyes, the leader of their small montage, responded, "If you wish to, go ahead."

Smiling, said Avalain, "Thank you. In case you haven't noticed, there aren't many people here that I can get along with. But you four seem kind, and not at all like _**some **_others here."

"Who was that?" asked the one with mischievous eyes, pointing briefly to Aragorn, who was sitting in the corner. At the mention of him, he smiled lightly and nodded to Avalain, a nod that said, _Earn their trust._

"A friend," responded she after a moment's hesitation.

One of the other two hobbits—the taller yet stouter hobbit who must've been Samwise Gamgee—coughed. "Quite a good friend."

Avalain laughed, causing the hobbits to smile. They enjoyed her laugh; it comforted them. "Oh, no! No, he is actually to be my brother in law." With this last, she lowered her voice before adding, almost as an afterthought, "But you can't tell anyone that, of course. I can only imagine what would occur…"

"Do not worry. As it is, we shall not be here very long. We came here to meet someone, but he isn't here…" said the blue-eyed hobbit.

"Then we are here on common interest," said Avalain, smiling prettily. "And it is a strange fate that the person I am supposed to come across is absent as well. Perhaps we can wait for him together."

This caused for three of the four hobbits to smile. Samwise Gamgee, however, frowned instead. Glaring warily at Avalain, said he roughly, "I do not know for whom _**you **_are awaiting, but our fifth is sure to be here at any moment. You cannot know the fifth of our company."

Replied Avalain, "But I _**do **_know for whom you are awaiting. He promised to be here by now, and he said that if this much time should elapse and he does not come, we should move without him. We cannot wait for Gandalf the Gray forever, Samwise Gamgee."

The hobbits gasped and shuffled uneasily in their seats. Glancing at one another and exchanging anxious looks, they appeared as if they knew they should lunge away from Avalain, but could not because of her friendly disposition.

To quickly reassure them, added she, "Yes, Gandalf has told me of your journey. You must trust me, Frodo Baggins. I bear no sign of the wizard to give you reason to come with me, but I can lead you to my city of Rivendell, where you shall be rid of your cargo. We don't have much time—I have knowledge that is invaluable to you involving those who pursue you and the power you carry. And though you certainly _**can **_refuse me and attempt to set off for my city alone, it will be much safer if you would allow me to accompany you."

"Who are you?" asked Frodo, his bright eyes full of suspicion. "I feel like I know your face…"

Avalain's face brightened. "About twenty years past, I visited your uncle Bilbo Baggins to hear about his journey, for he had passed through my city and I hadn't heard from him since. He was a very kind spirit, and I had wished to hear his tale. I promised to write to him once he returned home. As it was, I never knew of his fate until I traveled to the Shire with Gandalf. You, Frodo, were only a small hobbit at the time, but still I remember you. It is one of the reasons why I took up Gandalf's pleads to come here."

Frodo regarded her skeptically, but then his eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped. "Avalain Nightshade, princess of Rivendell."

"An Elf?" asked Samwise breathlessly.

Sighing, Avalain smiled and murmured, "Whilst I swore I would never lower my hood in this abominable bar…" Her hands drew to her cloak and pushed it back, allowing her dark hair to tumble down her shoulders and back. Her pointed ears were revealed, and the unusual brightness of her amber eyes was suddenly explained. The hobbits gaped at her and said nothing for astonishment. Her shapely face had captured their attention, and all doubt directed towards her previously thereafter vanished—each was more than willing to take her on as a guide… even Samwise.

"An Elf!" repeated Samwise, still without breath.

Quickly replacing her hood, muttered she, "I hope none of the Men saw. Honestly, they annoy me. But Frodo, whilst Gandalf spoke of two hobbits by the names of Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee, I was not told there would be four." With this, she turned towards the hobbit with the abandoned tankard and the fourth, who possessed deep brown eyes and long blond curls.

The fourth smiled shakily. "My name is Meriadoc Brandybuck, but most just… call me Merry."

Smiling, said Avalain, "A star shines upon our meeting, Merry Brandybuck. And now I know three of the four—pray tell, young one, what is your name?"

Startled at being directly addressed by a princess of Rivendell, said the hobbit quickly, "Peregrin Took, but most call me Pippin."

"Then it is Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin," counted Avalain. "Am I correct?"

Seeing their smiles, Avalain returned it. Leaning close, she murmured, "Now, friends, about the information I promised you. Would you rather learn it now or later? We must also buy supplies for the journey tonight."

Responded Frodo, "We have just arrived from great peril and much toil through the forest. All I know is that Gandalf promised us we'd be safe upon our arrival here. He said he would meet us here."

Avalain frowned, troubled. He should surely have arrived after nine days. "The wizard _**did **_tell me he might not make it… That is why I am here. Well, for now, I feel that the sooner we prepare, the sooner we can leave. I may need help, but my friend should stay here to be sure things are all right."

"What is his name?" asked Sam suspiciously.

"Around Bree, he is called Strider," replied Avalain. "In time, you will learn his true name. It isn't well known."

The hobbits exchanged looks, but eventually decided to let it pass because of their new friendship with the Elven princess. It was then that Merry stretched and announced, "I've been meaning to take a walk for a while at any rate, Your Majesty—"

"Oh, no, call me Avalain," she interrupted. "That is too grand a title for me."

Merry appeared as if he wanted to interject, but he shrugged it off and said, "I believe I shall go to help you with this preparing. After all, you are right—the sooner, the better."

Smiling, said Avalain, "Wonderful. We shall go out, but we must be very careful. I've heard of dangerous creatures skulking around at night—"

"Like those Black Riders?" inquired Pippin.

Avalain froze and closed her eyes, murmuring a prayer in Elvish. Worried, exclaimed Pippin, "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to upset you or anything—"

"No, pay no mind to me. They've been following you? For how long? Frodo, you must tell me everything, and make haste!"

And so Frodo began with how he set off to Bree from the Shire after being informed of his Ring by Gandalf. Sam had come with him, and over time they had run into Merry and Pippin—soon after, they had encountered their first Black Rider, from whom they had hid.

Avalain paid rapt attention, her amber eyes wide with apprehension as the tale continued. When Frodo finally finished, she had no idea what to say. Looking towards Aragorn, she could see the same worry reflected in his eyes—but there it was contained. Seeing that he had no solution what to do next, the Elf sighed and simply decided to proceed with the plan.

"Very well. Thank you, Frodo. Much Gandalf spoke of makes sense to me now. I fear that there is nothing to do at this moment. Merry, if you are willing to walk the nighttime streets with me, you may. The rest of you should remain here and be cautious. Do not speak to other Men about any of these matters. I shall be back soon, and tomorrow we shall be ready to set off at first light."

"First light?" exclaimed Sam. Then, lowering his voice, resumed he, "But we have to wait for Mr. Gandalf! Didn't I hear rightly that he was coming to meet us?"

Shaking her head solemnly, said Avalain, "I was to meet him here as well, and I have already been here ten days. We cannot afford to wait for the wizard now, Sam. To wait is to endanger ourselves—we must travel swiftly to avoid being caught. If we remain, we are sitting ducks."

Rising from the table, Avalain exchanged significant looks with Aragorn. He nodded once, and without another word, she and Merry set off for the door.

Once outside, the Elvish princess sighed in relief and murmured, "Long have I wished to escape Mortal eyes… or at least, drunken ones."

Merry laughed and set off after her, every couple of his small strides equal to one of hers. He glanced up at her, and it seemed as though before he could restrain the words from escaping, he had spoken. "Are you truly Avalain Nightshade, the princess of Rivendell?"

Not offended in the slightest, said Avalain, "Indeed I am. If you would like proof, all you would have to do is look into my eyes. Many say that all the stars dotting the black night are reflected inside them, though I myself never see it."

"Though I only received a short glance of you, I was able to see the rumors were true. But forgive me—I _**also **_happened upon a rumor that the state of the younger princess of Rivendell was failing… yet I find nothing ails you now."

Nodding, said she, "That rumor was true two years ago. Have you heard the legend of the relationships between stars and Elves? That our lives are intertwined? It is true—if the star dies, so does the Elf. But if the _**Elf **_dies, the star's owner simply switches. My star was Transforming, Merry… it took nearly a year before it became a new star, thus enabling me to walk Middle-Earth once more."

Though she spoke truthfully, even two years later she was uncomfortable telling the tale. The state of her appearance she would never know, and she disliked all the distress leading up to the Transformation.

Merry was so entranced by her words that he did not notice the horse coming upon him. It was only until Avalain gasped and exclaimed, "Careful, Merry!" that he hopped out of the creature's way, narrowly avoiding being trampled.

"Are you all right?" she asked fretfully. Merry was able to see the concern in her starry eyes. To comfort her, said he, "Do not worry, Avalain, I am fine. It shall take more than a pony to hurt me."

Replied Avalain, "Good… I do not know if you recall, but as I said in the inn, I did indeed travel to the Shire. Now that I think upon it, I remember your face when you were younger. Frodo and Meriadoc… I do recollect it now. Samwise and Pippin I have only met today, but since that visit, I have been fond of hobbits. It's been a while since I traveled to your land—has change come upon it? In exchange, I shall speak to you of Rivendell, should you like."

The two began speaking of their hometowns. Every now and then, Avalain would have to stop speaking to purchase food or supplies. Even so, their conversation enveloped her so deeply she was able to ignore the unwanted stares she received.

After another hour, they returned to the Prancing Pony for final preparations. As they walked inside the pub, Avalain was laughing at news told from Merry, but that laughter ceased abruptly when she saw the change that had come over the place.

It was all but empty… only two Men and a hobbit Avalain did not know remained, and they appeared wary. Finding Butterbur rather quickly—for once he was not surrounded on all sides—asked she, "Mr. Butterbur, what has happened?"

Glancing cautiously at Merry, answered the flustered innkeeper, "Well, according to a few of my guests, when one of your young hobbits was entertaining, he disappeared! Witchcraft or sorcery, some said, but I believe that's rubbish. At any rate, cleared out my bar rather quickly, but that shall not be a problem for future nights."

"Where did they go?" questioned Avalain, struggling to calm her voice.

"I believe the other three retired for the night. Based on your leave, shall I prepare your checkout tomorrow?"

After working out their leave for the next morning, Avalain hissed quietly, "Come quickly, Merry! We must find where the others have gone!" She set off swiftly, her cloak whishing around the corner after her.

Slamming the door open to her room, she found it was empty. Turning to Merry, asked she, "Do you know where you shall be sleeping for the night?"

The hobbit nodded and whisked about, his footsteps rapid and his footfalls silent.

Just before they reached the door, Avalain could hear voices inside of the room—they did not sound benevolent. She crashed open the door just as Samwise Gamgee shouted, "Let him go! Or I'll have you, Longshanks!"

Avalain exclaimed out of surprise and dismay. Aragorn was in the room, appearing uncommonly menacing because of the shadows dancing about the place. Frodo was in the corner, his blue eyes widening out of hope and surprise upon seeing the Elven princess. Pippin and Sam were glaring at Aragorn, but their gazes softened when their eyes rested upon Avalain.

In Elvish, Avalain hissed to Aragorn, "What are you doing? Do you forget we are to gain their trust?"

"I know what we are to do," he responded, ignoring the heat in his companion's voice. "But something happened—are you ignorant of what occurred in the bar this evening? I would have thought Butterbur would only be too pleased to enlighten you."

Avalain groaned and pushed him aside. But wiping her frown off her face, she rushed to Frodo and asked in the Common Tongue, "You are not hurt, are you?"

After a short silence, said he, "No. But I fear that I have done very foolishly this night." He hung his head, the glitter of his eyes diminishing.

"What happened?" asked she gently, lifting his chin.

An overwhelming silence enveloped the room. Based on the solemn look in Frodo's normally bright eyes, gasped Avalain, "The Ring—"

"It was my fault, princess," admitted Pippin reluctantly. "I began speaking to some of the Men, and we approached the topic of family. I suppose… I talked too much, and Frodo came to stop me. But he tripped, and the Ring flew out of his hand and onto his finger…"

Hearing this, Avalain whisked to the beds and ripped aside the covers. She began to fill the beds with the pillows and paid no heed to the astonished looks she received. Once she was finally forced to acknowledge them, however, said she quickly, "If the Ring was put on, that means the Nine are coming after you—those Black Riders. We must get you to safety, though that does not mean flying… not in the night. Setting off at first light is our best bet, but for now, all we can do is stall for time. Help me! We must play the card of trickery. Aragorn! Watch the doors. Sam—someone! Ask Mr. Butterbur for a different room. We have little precious time, and I cannot hold them off on my own."

Hearing her rushed words, Merry and Samwise ran to obey her commands. Aragorn pulled out a sword and paid rapt attention to the streets below; Frodo and Pippin shamefully began aiding the princess's desperate attempt of fraudulence.

"Won't they recognize the disguise?" asked Pippin when he felt he could no longer contain the bubbling question.

Shaking her head, responded Avalain, "The Nine cannot see—they are able to sense the presence of the Ring, and that is how they fight. None know what their faces are—whether it is a black hole or a deformed skeleton, none have lived to tell. They can hear and smell, yes, but see or taste they do not know. That is the one advantage we have… undoubtedly they will discover our ruse once they stab these pillows, but they will most likely believe we have left, which shall not be true. The Nazgûl are used to having their victims run from them."

"Nazgûl?" asked Frodo. "Are they the same as the Black Riders that came across our path?"

Answered Aragorn, "Yes… they are—"

"Aragorn," said Avalain sharply. She did not believe it necessary to tell them such terrifying things during such terrifying times. Aragorn apparently thought differently.

"They must be prepared, Avalain," he replied calmly. "They cannot remain ignorant to what is around them. News is often frightening, yes, but they must be informed of the truth."

As Avalain looked towards the two hobbits, she saw the terror concealed beneath their attempt at courage. She admired their stoutheartedness, but of course when the Nine came they would only be able to do so much. "Very well," she spoke at last. "But let us save such dark things for when we have the time to speak of them."

"Fair enough," said Aragorn. Merry and Sam came bursting in the room.

"It's all settled," Sam said quickly. "He does not know what is going on—what _**is **_going on?—but we are ready. Mr. Butterbur exchanged our room to one across the street on the other side of the inn… I thought that would be safer."

Relieved, sighed Avalain, "Wonderful, Sam. Now quickly! Everything is ready; we must now go to that room. Who knows how quickly their horses run…"

They did as she bade. Avalain turned to Aragorn, and she only had to say, "If you will please?" before a sword was placed in her hand. Avalain was comforted by the familiar feel of such a magnificent weapon in her hand.

As Men walked along the street, paying no heed to the six sprinting past them, Avalain hoped they would withdraw behind the protection of their houses before the Nine were to arrive. Throwing open the door, Aragorn led the hobbits and the princess inside before swiftly shutting the door behind him. The same hobbit that stabled Avalain's horse ten days past showed them to their new room.

Avalain knew the rest was up to luck and fate. She and Aragorn exchanged quick nods—seeing that he would also remain awake, they agreed to keep diligent watch on the streets. They told the hobbits to sleep, but they only did so after Aragorn promised to explain what the Nine were the following morning.

Frodo, however, was unable to find sleep. He was wide awake as his comrades snored softly on the bed—he stood at the edge of the window, also keeping a watchful eye.

Hours passed… Avalain's eyes began to close sleepily where she stood. It was very deep into the night, and because she and Aragorn had been watching for the hobbits just as late each night, fatigue was beginning to rule over her.

However, she then witnessed a dark patch of black entering the inn.

Avalain and Aragorn alike leaned forward. Frodo watched from where he stood, narrowing his eyes in concentration. The black patch entered the Prancing Pony across the street…

Two minutes passed before blood-chilling screeches filled the night.

Merry, Sam, and Pippin sat bolt upright from where they had peacefully slept. They stared at the three who were still awake and now more than alert.

"What are they?" asked Frodo.

Aragorn looked at him gravely and answered, "They were once Men. Great kings of Men. Then Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine Rings of power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question, one-by-one falling into darkness. Now they are slaves to his will… they are the Nazgûl; Ringwraiths, neither living nor dead. At all times they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the One. They will never stop hunting you."

Whilst Avalain already knew what they were, the answer was so explicit that not even she could resist the shudder creeping up her spine.

It appeared the hobbits felt the same way. Avalain kept a wary eye over the door—suddenly, five black cloaks fled the inn and mounted black horses. They split up and rode off in different directions. Two headed west towards the Shire, one went north, one traveled south, and one rode east to where Rivendell stood.

"We must hurry come the morrow," murmured Avalain. "I saw only one ride the direction we shall be traveling. If we are lucky, we shall arrive at Rivendell in a fortnight."

"How shall the others know we are coming?" asked Merry.

"I have alerted my father to be on the watch for me, Aragorn, and two hobbits. He shall question why there are four. We should be safe the moment we cross the river. It is the boundary of our lands, and is very well protected."

Comforted, the hobbits fell back asleep. Avalain wished she were able to do the same.

Seeing her exhaustion, said Aragorn, "You must catch your rest, Avalain. Undoubtedly there shall be more cause for fatigue later on during this journey."

Normally, she would have argued. But seeing as this was Aragorn keeping watch, and he was the only exception to her rule of more than one keeping watch, Avalain nodded gratefully and sat in a chair, where she closed her eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

The next day, the four hobbits, the Man, and the Elf set out from Bree. The princess attached a letter to her horse's saddle before ordering him to return to Rivendell. Normally she would have placed the hobbits on her horse—but Aragorn had walked to Bree, and there were two extra hobbits she hadn't planned on. As comforting and spirit-lifting as they were, it threw off Avalain's plan somewhat.

And so they entered the woods on foot.

As the hours crawled by, Avalain and Aragorn kept a wary eye out for the Black Riders. Nothing dangerous occurred the first few days, for which they were both suspicious and grateful. As time passed, Avalain could not help but realize—while the hobbits distrusted Aragorn, they were almost completely dependent upon her.

"Where are you taking us?" asked Frodo, momentarily forgetting.

"Into the wild," responded Aragorn curtly.

Sighing, answered Avalain, "We are leading you to my city of Rivendell. Once we cross the borders of my river we shall be safe—that is but nine days from here. You are welcome to remain in my city until you are ready to return home."

The hobbits seemed to like her addition of home—it made them feel as if the journey was almost over, as if the rolling green hills of the Shire were just around the corner. Perhaps it was Avalain's joy, optimism and helpfulness compared to Aragorn's blunt and slightly intimidating nature that allowed the hobbits to favor her.

Indeed, the next day she heard Merry ask lowly, "How do we know this Strider is a friend of Gandalf's?"

"I think a servant of the enemy would look fairer… and feel fouler," replied Frodo, mimicking Avalain's trials of optimism even as Black Riders were about.

"He's foul enough," muttered Merry. Beside her, Avalain saw Aragorn smile as if out of grim satisfaction—she could not keep back a short laugh seeing the twisted sort of satisfaction on his face.

"We have no choice but to trust him. At any rate, you trust Avalain, do you not?" asked Frodo in return. His last question earned silence from the other three hobbits, and they did not doubt either Aragorn or Avalain throughout the remainder of the journey.

The following morning, Avalain was forced to shake the sleeping hobbits awake, though not without a smile upon her face. "Come now, Pippin! Arise, Sam! We are but six days from Rivendell!"

At last, Sam's eyes shot open. Yawning and stretching, he arose and began aiding Avalain with rousing his other three companions. With joy and disbelief, Sam repeated, "Rivendell! We're going to see the Elves!"

Frodo laughed and exclaimed, "But Sam, you are looking at one now!"

Sam flushed as Avalain laughed and asked, "Do I not look Elvish to you, Samwise? Now that I think on it, there have been a few that have dared to say I look a little bit like a Mortal…"

"No, no, not at all!" he amended only to receive more laughter. Sam grinned seeing Avalain's smile, though he was still sheepish from his excited but well-meaning comment.

Before long, however, the hobbits stopped the little pony Avalain had purchased in Bree—Sam especially was fond of it and named it Bill—to grab something to eat. The Elf girl was ready to let them rest for five minutes, but Aragorn frowned and said, "Gentlemen, we do not stop till nightfall."

Indignantly, asked Pippin, "What about breakfast?"

"You've already had it."

"We've had _**one, **_yes. What about _**second **_breakfast?" he questioned with an expectant look on his face.

Amused, Aragorn shook his head and marched through the next large patch of reeds.

Said Merry to his friend afterward, "I don't think he knows about second breakfast, Pip."

"What about elevensies?" persisted Pippin. "Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper? He knows about them, doesn't he?"

"I wouldn't count on it," replied Merry. Suddenly, an apple flew from the sky. It would've landed on Merry's head had he not darted a hand up to catch it. Merry pat Pippin on the shoulder; the latter glanced up at the sky.

Because he was caught off guard, the apple Aragorn tossed to Pippin actually _**did **_hit him in the head. Avalain stifled laughter as she picked up the apple, wiped it clean of grass, and placed it in Pippin's hand.

They continued walking through marshes overpopulated with mosquitos. "What do they eat… when they can't get—ugh—hobbit?" asked a bitten Merry.

Seeing everyone'sdiscomfort, Avalain eyed her bracelet and smiled slyly. She murmured a few words, and the bugs around the hobbits, herself, and Aragorn all flew away.

Aghast, asked Pippin, "How did you _**do **_that?!"

"It wasn't so hard," she replied, proudly presenting her bracelet. "All it took was the help of… a friend… and a few words from Gandalf. And of course, some of my energy."

Though they did not understand, they smiled, trudging forward as Aragorn urged. Hours passed; early evening was setting. Nearby, a sturdy ruin of a watchtower stood.

"This was the great watchtower of Amon Súl," explained Aragorn quietly, guiding the hobbits forward. Though they were suspicious of the structure at first, they had no qualms about it when Aragorn added, "We shall rest here tonight."

Once everything was settled, Aragorn whispered to Avalain, "There is something about this place that unsettles me. I'm going to look around—I shan't be long. Watch over the hobbits."

He gave her a smile before whipping out four short swords in four sheaths. Tossing them to the surprised halflings, said he, "These are for you. Keep them close. I'm going to look around… stay here."

With that, he was off—disappeared as a shadow into the night. This left the Elf girl and the four hobbits alone in the dark. The hobbits began examining their newly acquired weapons with awe.

"I hope you will not have to use those," sighed Avalain.

"Why not?" asked Sam curiously.

"For it will mean that evil shall descend upon us. If these swords are ever to be used, it will be because something dreadful has arrived. Have any of you been learned in these arts?" Avalain refrained from sighing upon seeing their shaking heads. "One day, I shall teach you the basics. We shall not begin now… at such an elevation, the sounds of clanging metal will echo and give away our position. But once we are safe behind my borders, I shall teach you what you need to know."

After noting the hobbits' approval, Avalain struggled to resist the lull of sleep. The previous nights she had insisted Aragorn to rest seeing as he knew the world much better than she and therefore required more energy. But all the watching was leaving her tired… the hobbits noticed this.

Concerned, said Frodo, "Avalain, you should sleep. This night is not likely to prove to be any different from those past. We have not been doing our share of keeping watch—tonight we shall make up for it."

"Oh, no, Frodo. You four are most important," murmured she sleepily.

Quieted laughter echoed in her ears, and Avalain only closed her eyes upon hearing Merry whisper, "We shall watch over _**you **_tonight, princess. Frodo, you should get sleep too. I know you have been awake these nights. Both of you deserve rest. We are able to keep watch."

The next thing Avalain heard was a blood-curling screech.

Shooting upright from where she lay, she saw the remains of a fire to her right. Frodo, who was looking aggravated and anxious, had burned feet. She realized that the others must have been hungry sometime during her rest and had lit a fire, therefore allowing the Nine to see exactly where they were positioned.

"Go!" she heard Frodo shout. Three pairs of footsteps barreled up the steps to Avalain's left—a hand on her shoulder let her know that Frodo himself had remained. "Avalain! Five are coming, and Aragorn has not returned!"

"He _**hasn't?!**_" exclaimed the princess angrily. "How long has he been gone?"

The hobbit shrugged. "Hurry!" They quickly threw themselves up the stairs where the other three awaited the arrival of the Nazgûl.

Darkness surrounded them. Avalain commanded the hobbits to watch the gaps in the stone; she withdrew the sword Aragorn had given her and glared out at the night. She knew that however well Legolas had trained her, not even she could stall five of the Nazgûl at once.

A minute later, she heard a worried, "Avalain?"

The Elven princess turned and saw the five coming from behind one of the pillars. Though she shoved three of the four hobbits behind her, Avalain could do nothing to stop Sam from shouting, "Back, you devils!" and charging the Nazgûl.

Metal clanged twice—Sam was shoved unceremoniously to the side.

Seeing him tossed against the wall spurred Avalain to issue a cry and leap forward, engaging three of the five Black Riders. Though she did not know how she managed it, she dodged all three Morgul blades heading for her. She successfully disarmed one and stabbed another through the robes. She could not see where the other two Black Riders were.

Avalain turned just in time to see Merry and Pippin dive out of the way of the Nazgûl. This left Frodo standing alone against two of the Riders—Avalain swallowed. He did not know how to fight.

His fear was concealed by resilience, but as he stared up at the looming figures gliding towards him, he dropped his sword and fell over upon the stone.

"NO!" shrieked Avalain as she battled three Ringwraiths. "Aragorn! Where are you?!"

Still she did not see him, and she was forced to return to battling those in front of her. She ducked under dark blades and stabbed the Nazgûl where she could—one fled, its head suddenly on fire.

Avalain whirled around to find Aragorn with a sword in one hand and a torch in the other—he was a demon, fighting all five Nazgûl at once. Inspired, Avalain charged two of the remaining four. She fought fiercer than ever, a wild and manic look in her eyes.

She drew them off, leaving her breathing heavily. Only one Nazgûl was left… but as she watched, Aragorn turned around and threw his torch at it. The fire spun round in the air—

And the last of the five fled the watchtower, its head wreathed in flame.

Just then, Avalain heard Frodo's voice. "Oh, Sam." She turned to see he was on the ground, blood soaking his shirt.

Dashing to him, she gasped and exclaimed, "What has happened?" But the truth was painstakingly obvious… he'd been stabbed by one of the dead blades.

"Strider! Help him, Strider! Avalain, please!" called Sam with panic.

They checked over Frodo to see what they could do; said Aragorn, "He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade. This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs Elvish medicine."

A hopeful smile breaking over his face, exclaimed Sam, "But Avalain is here! Can she cure him?"

Seeing her sorrowful face, however, that smile faded. His eyes closed once Avalain responded, "I cannot, Sam. I do not have the herbs I need for this. But what I _**can **_do is slow the poisoning long enough for us to reach my city. There my father shall be able to heal him."

"We're five days from Rivendell!" protested Sam. "He'll never make it!"

"He _**will. **_I will not allow Frodo to pass, Sam. This I swear. Now come, we have rested far too long this night. They will be back, and now we must make haste."

With that, all six rushed towards the realm of trees. A forest stood ten leagues away—the guides took comfort knowing that the trees would be refuge.

More days passed, and the forest exit was near. That meant there were still two days left until Rivendell was reached, but Frodo's condition was steadily growing worse. After the first day of his wound, he had not been able to walk. Avalain had seated him upon Bill and made sure he would not fall—now, it seemed that he was hardly conscious of anything.

Frodo's eyes were wide, and sweat glistened upon his forehead. His breath came in ragged gasps that sounded remotely similar to one of the Ringwraith's.

"Strider! What's going to happen to him?" asked Sam one night. Avalain was jarred from her trance—she had been storing energy into her bracelet. The effort from slowing the poison severely emptied her… but she swore not to let him pass.

Glancing up at the three stone trolls above her, a small smile appeared on her face as she realized Bilbo's tales had been truth. Though she wished to find a secluded cave nearby, Frodo could not be moved.

"He's passing into the Shadow World. He'll soon become a Wraith like them," said Aragorn grimly. As Frodo emitted a strangled cry mixed with a scream like a Wraith's, there came a response—said Aragorn, "They're close. Sam! Do you know the athelas plant?"

"Athelas?" asked Sam.

"Kingsfoil?"

"Aye, kingsfoil, it's a weed!"

Relieved, explained Aragorn, "It may help to slow the poisoning. Avalain!"

Before he even finished his exclamation, the Elven princess had set off in search of the athelas plant. She prayed there was some nearby—she would never be able to forgive herself if Frodo perished… or worse.

After ten minutes of searching, Avalain figured she'd better begin to head back. The other three hobbits couldn't be left alone for long… suddenly, a hand clamped her mouth shut. She was spun around to see a familiar pair of blue eyes. "Not focused this evening, are you, Avalain?" asked her captor.

Narrowing her eyes to display her feelings, said Avalain, though her comment was muffled by the hand around her mouth, "Release me, Legolas."

He laughed and did as she commanded. "Arwen and I have been searching for you for two days. We saw your horse return and feared the worst, but upon reading the letter we thought it best to come and find you before the Wraiths did."

"Well, you are slightly behind schedule," said Avalain in a rush. "Follow me—on top of Amon Súl, the Wraiths found us. I am not hurt," she added hastily upon hearing his start of the question, "but one of the four hobbits is injured. I have not the energy in my bracelet to heal him, though I can still delay the poisoning. If we do not get him to Rivendell within the next three days, I fear for the worst…"

By this time, Avalain had returned to the campsite to find her sister and Aragorn. Rushing towards them, Legolas and Avalain glanced over Frodo worriedly—the first to speak was Arwen, who announced, "He's fading. He's not going to last. We must get him to my father."

"I'll go," volunteered Aragorn.

"No, I am the faster rider," retorted Arwen.

Before the task could turn into an argument, said Legolas, "Arwen, Avalain's horse is still with our own. Did you not say you brought a horse for Aragorn upon his arrival here?"

Exchanging looks, all agreed—one hobbit, one rider per horse.

Understanding the gist, said Sam, "What about Bill?"

Glancing at her bracelet, responded Avalain, "I shall place a charm upon him. He will know his way to Rivendell, and soon he shall be resting in our stalls, grazing happily. It has never failed before, Sam. Trust me."

After a moment, he nodded. Avalain came forward and murmured in Elvish to the pony, "Exit the forest, and you shall come across an extensive plain. Cross it and head towards the thin rustle of twigs and branches. Upon leaving that, a valley should come into view. Descend and head for the largest house—an Elf shall be waiting for you." As she spoke, Avalain filled her palm with a ball of energy and pressed it to the pony's head.

Bill snorted to inform her that he understood. Avalain rose again and said, "Quickly, now! We have little time. Pippin! Come with me."

"I shall take Frodo," said Arwen, glaring at Aragorn significantly.

"Sam," called Legolas.

"On your feet, Merry," said Aragorn, helping Merry rise.

Arwen summoned the horses with a whistle, and they all came—one white, one black, one silver, one gold.

At the sight of her silver horse, Avalain said to Pippin, "Sit in front of me so I know you are with me throughout the ride to Rivendell." He climbed upon her horse, quickly followed by the princess. The others did the same, and soon enough the horses were billowing out of the forest and towards the plains.

The trees disappeared and tall brushes of unkempt prairie soon surrounded them. The sun glowered down as it sunk rapidly in the west, reminding all about the preciously short amount of time they had before it would be too late for Frodo.

Avalain worried most of all—she had sworn that the hobbit would remain alive. If she were not able to keep that promise…

The prairie vanished, and twigs, fallen logs, and trees lay everywhere. This was the final leg of the journey to Rivendell; beyond the extensive reign of Trollshaws was the river beyond which Rivendell stood.

Sensing the hurriedness of their riders, the horses continued sprinting. Though each rider worried about the welfare of the animals, they knew the horses would not slow down even if asked.

A sound echoed in Avalain's ears—more breathing of more horses. She gasped and turned to her left to find a black hand reaching out for Pippin.

"_Noro lim, Ralisk!" _screamed Avalain. The horse did as she commanded, and it sped up out of reach of the Nazgûl. Pippin—who had not seen the creature until Avalain harshly alerted all to its appearance—was quite startled. He glanced at Frodo to see if he was still upon Arwen's horse, Asfolath.

Just then, nine unearthly screeches rang from the underbrush. All the riders shouted to their horses to ride hard and not look back.

The Nine erupted from the sides. The lane of riding was narrow—only large enough for two horses side-by-side. Legolas and Avalain rode together with Sam and Pippin… "Pippin! Hold these! Ralisk knows what to do!" shouted Avalain.

Pippin took hold of the reins with panic and confusion as Avalain yanked a knife out of her saddle and threw it behind her. One of the Nazgûl shrieked as it was forced to dodge out of the way—had the knife not been so deadly accurate, Merry would've been in the creature's clutches.

But Ralisk, however well he was trained, could not stay on task while his rider risked herself to slow the enemy. He nearly stumbled over a fallen log, and Elf and hobbit gasped as they were almost thrown off.

Whirling to face the road in front of her, Avalain reclaimed the reins—Pippin was only too happy to give them back. Using the last of the energy in her bracelet, she transferred it into Ralisk, the other two horses, and Asfolath.

Luckily, the horses responded to the sudden burst of energy. Their speed increased fantastically, but the black horses were speedy despite the advantage Avalain had cast. As she glanced back, she was alarmed to see the horses were not fading from sight like she'd hoped—a tree branch whipped her across the forehead.

With a cry, she wiped the spurt of blood away from her eyes—a sharp thorn had peeled skin off her forehead. Avalain could hardly see until she used one hand wipe the blood away.

"Avalain!" cried Pippin, seeing the shining red upon her hand.

"I am fine, Pippin, do not worry about me!"

A last splurge of speed propelled the four horses over the river. Sighing in relief, Avalain wiped her forehead free of blood and glanced over the river.

All Nine stood there, their black horses bucking and whinnying out of anger and frustration. Then, in a blood-chilling voice Avalain had never before heard, the leader hissed, _"Give up the halfling, She-Elf…"_

Each knew this was directed towards Arwen. Her eyes narrowed, and she whipped out a wickedly sharp scythe; Hadhafang. "If you want him, come and claim him!"

Avalain, Aragorn, and Legolas followed her lead. Drawing their swords, they too glared malevolently at the black creatures.

The Nazgûl forced their reluctant horses towards the river.

Avalain and Arwen exchanged horrified looks. Together, they began chanting in Elvish, "_Waters of Loudmouth, flow against the Ringwraiths!_" Their voices echoed and vibrated throughout the ground and sky.

As the Nazgûl were halfway across the river, a rumbling began. The Elven princesses watched in grim satisfaction as water rushed over the stones on the riverbed… the waves swiftly became larger. The foam of the water took the appearance of horses bearing riders.

Seeing this, the horses of the Nine attempted to run, yet they weren't able to get anywhere before the avalanche of water was upon them, drowning the steeds and defeating the Ringwraiths.

Avalain's relief did not last long. Just then, she heard a gasp of pain.

"No!" gasped Avalain, swinging off her horse. Her sister leapt off her own and gently brought Frodo to the ground… he looked worse than ever. His blue eyes were almost gray, and his breathing was steadily growing shorter and fainter until it was almost nonexistent.

"Frodo, no!" cried Avalain. He was almost too far gone.

Exhausted as she was and with no spare energy at all, Avalain was determined not to let him go. Holding the hobbit against her body, murmured she, "Let my power become his, and what grace is given me—let it pass to him. Let him be spared."

Avalain could feel her own life and energy flowing from her into Frodo… She did not heed the others crying, "Avalain!" Instead, she proceeded until she had only enough life left to remain conscious and alive.

But even that was not enough to cure Frodo… Avalain realized her sacrifice was only enough to sustain him until he arrived in Rivendell.

Glancing up at her friends, she whispered, "Save him," before closing her eyes and falling upon the riverbed.

Avalain was brought into darkness; such black she had not known since her wizardly magic in Gondor three years beforehand.

The next morning, however, she awoke with a ringing in her ears. It took her five minutes to clear her head… Once the ringing was gone, Avalain realized it was midday, and across from her laid someone else in a white bed. Someone was beside that person.

"Sam," said Avalain.

The hobbit glanced over at her and rushed to her side. "Oh, thank heavens, Avalain! You—you saved him! You're alive and well… Strider!" he called, directing his excited attention outside of the white room.

And Aragorn arrived, with Arwen behind him. Seeing Avalain awake, they hurried towards her. Not for the last time, Arwen attacked her younger sister with questions of her well-being and a hug. After assuring her sister that she was fine, Avalain's mouth dried went Legolas walked into the room.

"Didn't I tell you never to perform wizard's magic again?!" exclaimed he angrily. Yet Legolas pulled her into an embrace anyway. She could tell he was more relieved than angry.

When he withdrew, said Avalain, "I swore not to let Frodo perish. He brings me joy, Legolas, as do all others in this room. I not only promised Samwise that Frodo would be spared, but I promised myself. And you know I never break my word."

"It is known," murmured he. "Yet you worry me each time you do this. Please heed my words when I say—let there be nothing for you to have to impose your word on again?" This last was said as an exasperated plead, and she could not help but laugh.

Just then, her father appeared. His blue-gray eyes gazed upon his daughter worriedly, but seeing her condition, he smiled as well. "And remember that the rest of us ask this of you, too, my daughter."

Smiling, replied she, "I am aware of that, Father."

Placing her hand in his, the Lord Elrond said nothing for a while. As anxious and worried as Sam was about Avalain, he returned to Frodo.

Upon seeing Frodo's pale face and closed eyes, burst out Avalain, "Will he be all right?"

Noting her apprehension, said Elrond, "Yes, he will be. He has not woken, but he will soon. Gandalf has been aiding me in healing him. Do not trouble yourself with your absence. He has been very well taken care of."

Avalain accepted this explanation gladly—yet there was something in his answer that bothered her. At last she found it. "But father, Gandalf never arrived at the Prancing Pony."

"Oh, I _**am **_sorry about that, Avalain," said a familiar voice.

The princess turned and saw the wizard with his robes of gray; yet they were more worn than last she had seen. Dark circles were under Gandalf's eyes, and though he smiled, it was rather thin.

Certain that she would ask what happened, continued Gandalf, "I was delayed… by a particular wizard whom I once called 'friend.'"

"Saruman?" questioned Avalain with confusion. "But how can this be? Just sixty years ago he was here at Rivendell, summoned to council with my father, grandmother, and yourself! How has his allegiance been swayed so quickly?"

"That is a puzzle we have yet to solve," responded a troubled Gandalf. "Upon my visit to seek his council, I learned that not only has he switched loyalties, but he plots to throw the balance of power in his favor. Isengard is being put to foul use—during my captivity, I had the misfortune to witness a great deal of it. Yet that means we have more information of what the Dark Lord and his new puppet are to do."

A feeling of dread consumed Avalain as next she queried, "But is he not knowledgeable of _**our **_plans as well?"

A shadow came across the wizard's face as he answered, "He does indeed know. But we have comfort knowing that the Ring is safe in Rivendell."

"Gandalf," said Lord Elrond sharply. There was a warning in his eyes that spoke of a future conversation regarding the Ring and its place in Rivendell.

Attempting to put the matter of Saruman's treachery from her mind, said Avalain, "What are we to do with the Ring? It cannot remain here forever! Eventually its power will be noticed—my sister and I slowed the Nine on our journey here, but we have not stopped them. They shall return, and with a vengeance."

At the mention of the Nine, darkness crept over the conversation. None could shove the memories of the black deities away—each recollection was filled with fear and anger. No one could meet another's eyes until Lord Elrond spoke. "That shall be discussed. I have called representatives from each race of Middle-Earth to decide the fate of the Ring. They have all answered this emergency meeting… their arrival is to be in another week."

Avalain was not comforted. She knew perfectly well that such important meetings were reserved singularly for males.

So her shock was understandable when next he said, "You and Arwen shall help represent Rivendell. I will require your aid with the tale of this Ring."

Hardly believing his words, stammered Avalain, "I—I shall try to help you in whatever way possible! Thank you," she added with unfeigned sincerity. She would not have been able to bear it had she been left without a clue of the Ring's fate after playing such a part in its tale.

Seeing the smiles of Legolas and Aragorn, Avalain shook her head—most likely she appeared flabbergasted—and continued to diligently watch over Frodo. She hoped he would awake before long; she wished to be present and conscious when he did.

"Sleep, Avalain. Already your eyes are threatening to close," pointed out Legolas. He smiled halfheartedly when he saw her glare. "You need to regain your strength."

Sighing, mumbled she incomprehensibly, "If he wakes, wake me as well." Avalain did not close her eyes until hearing the promise from her friend—yet she would sleep for another full day before Frodo would rise.

It turned out to be Frodo himself to wake Avalain the following morning. Each greeted the other with exclamations of relief and worry about the other's well-being—as soon as it was determined that both felt fine, whole, and safe, only then did they relax and smile.

"Thank you, Avalain, for saving my life. All have spoken of what you have done," said Frodo. "I would not be here without you."

Calmly, responded she, "I promised that you would arrive in my city alongside us. You mean much to all of us here… especially Sam," added Avalain with a laugh. This caused for one on Frodo's behalf—together, they exited the room and Avalain showed Frodo the palace.

There, they met up with Sam, Merry, and Pippin, all of whom were glad to find them up and well. After a hearty reunion, Avalain noticed that Frodo had frozen. Following his gaze, she realized why—sitting calmly on one of the marble benches was Bilbo Baggins.

She, as well as Frodo, was glad to see the hobbit once again. The last time Avalain had seen Bilbo's face was twenty years past, so encountering him once more brought cheer to her heart. As she and the other hobbits waited patiently for Frodo, Avalain hinted that she had promised to show them all the city of Rivendell.

And so, not unlike three years beforehand with Boromir and Faramir, Avalain began to walk around Rivendell with new companions at her side.

A few more days passed. Avalain smiled sadly as she heard Sam muttering one day about what he should be packing for the journey home since the hobbits would soon be returning to the Shire. Frodo was not completely healed just yet, but once he was, they would be off towards home.

Though the thought dampened her spirits, Avalain found that whilst with the hobbits, nothing could make her frown. It was during the fifth day of their stay that all five were down at the silver gates overlooking the valley. The Elvish princess clutched the pillar and remembered how three years beforehand she had had no hope.

"Avalain?" asked Merry, causing her to jump. The hobbits laughed upon seeing her sudden return to reality.

They asked what she had been thinking of, and so Avalain answered with a small smile, "Being here reminds me of the day my life began to return to normal. I was lost in thought, thinking of those who brought me joy again."

Behind her, a voice then said, "I do believe we were thinking the exact same thing. It _**does **_take you back, does it not?"

Without even needing to glance behind her, Avalain grinned. Enthusiastically, exclaimed she, "Boromir!" It was with a joyous smile upon her face that she whirled around and saw her dear friend once more. Embracing him, said she next, "I was not told you would be arriving!"

"My father wished for me to come as representative of Gondor," answered he. "The war is not going well, that is true—but if this meeting is about what we believe it to be, fate shall swiftly turn for the better."

Smiling at this, asked Avalain next, "And how are your people? I miss a great many of them."

Laughing, replied the Soldier of Gondor, "They are well and alive, do not worry. Lately there has been a withdrawal of attacks. We fear the enemy is regrouping, but has not the force needed to strike. So we use this time to improve our skills and weaponry, and we wait for the day when we engage in combat again. That is why my brother could not also join me… one of us had to remain in Gondor to command our troops."

Her smile growing wistful, sighed Avalain, "I _**do **_hope he shall be all right…"

"Faramir is a great Captain, Avalain—this you know. And it is that fact which assures me he shall be alive upon this meeting's ending," reassured Boromir, attempting to make her smile. The trial worked, and it was then that Avalain remembered there were four hobbits behind her.

After introducing everyone, said she, "I suppose we shall have to return to the palace. Undoubtedly my father is preparing for the council meeting he has called—did you know that he has invited me as well?" asked she with a burst of lightness edging her tone.

The Man and the Elf began conversing—the hobbits were not accustomed to the beauty of the city, so they contented themselves with the majesty of Rivendell.

Upon returning to the palace, Avalain was quite exalted with what she had learned of the estate of Gondor. Since the council was sure to address the Mortal City—or so she hoped—at the end of the week all would be solved. Perhaps, she thought, Elves would aid the Men once more as they had fifty years previously.

And if that happened, swore Avalain, she would be the first to ride to Gondor.

It was not long after Boromir's arrival that others of the council began arriving. Noticing this, Avalain would often stand at the silver gate, waiting to guide them back up to the palace. Her friendliness and beauty allowed those who arrived to trust her—by engaging her guests in kind conversation, Avalain was somehow able to win over a grudging liking even from the Dwarves that had arrived. Upon seeing Gloin from the Company of Thorin Oakenshield among them, they had a merry meeting; Avalain learned of the welfare of those who inhabited the Lonely Mountain as well as those who remained in the Blue Mountains. In exchange, Avalain supplied Gloin with information of the world of Elves and Men as well as a vague yet satisfactory summary of why they had been summoned.

Another two days passed. After spending much time with Boromir, Legolas, and the hobbits, Avalain was purely exhausted and wished for nothing more than a good night's sleep. Tough she fell to dreams almost instantly, it seemed like a mere moment later she was awakened by Lindir.

Smiling kindly at her, said Lindir, "Come, Avalain. Your father is summoning you to council."


	7. Chapter 7

Avalain threw herself out of bed and donned a cream gown. After throwing her hair carelessly in the Elvish fashion, she sprinted out the door. Her thoughts flew at a fast rate, and more than once she noted that her excitement might be obstructing her composition.

Just before coming around the last corner, she forced herself to stop. Avalain took two deep breaths before putting on a pretty smile and walking into view of the council.

Arwen and her father were at the head. The younger princess followed her father's hand gesturing her towards the seat to his left. There, Avalain met eyes with Frodo, who had a hand on his forehead. She gave him an encouraging smile; he returned it, but Avalain could see it was forced.

A few minutes later, the council was present and awaiting Lord Elrond. Hearing the silence of the enclosure, said he, "Strangers from distant lands, friends from old. You've been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it—you will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom." Then, turning to Frodo, ordered the Elven Lord, "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

The hobbit glanced at Lord Elrond before rising. Upon a stone table for all to see, he set down the Ring, the small tool that could be the annihilation of the world.

It was the first time Avalain had seen the Ring in person, and it fascinated as well as frightened her. Although its golden glow appeared lustrous, the Elven princess was more than wary of what cunning lay within. Glancing at the eyes of those about her, she saw glints of suspicion… as well as desire.

Quiet were the representatives of Middle-Earth. At last, a voice drew attention. Her head swiveled in its direction; Avalain knew who had spoken even before her eyes located him.

"So it is true," mused Boromir, his eyes narrowed. Avalain grew skeptical of his strange behavior… normally Boromir listened and waited before speaking his mind. "In a dream, I saw the eastern sky grow dark… but in the west, a pale light lingered. A voice was crying: 'Your doom is near at hand. Isildur's bane is found.'"

Upon seeing the strange light in Boromir's eyes, Avalain leapt up from her seat and cried out his name. Yet none heard her warnings because the Gandalf suddenly erupted into an avalanche of the abominable language of Mordor.

Not one person in the council did not flinch—caught by surprise, Avalain yelped and jumped. Boromir, broken from his trance, instinctively shielded her from the impending darkness.

The world itself was rumbling… the sky grew dark and the sun was not visible. Everyone cringed as the Black Speech echoed thunderously into their ears.

When the rain of Black Speech ended, Avalain could not move. She had been paralyzed by shock—as had the others.

Elrond was the first to react. Anger and irritation flickered in his gaze as he said with a detectable bite, "Never before has any voice uttered words of that tongue here in Imladris."

"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond," scowled Gandalf as he sat back in his seat, "for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the west! The Ring is altogether evil." It seemed this last was directed to the Men sitting across from him… except Aragorn, who did not seem affected by the talisman at all.

Yet much to her confusion and despair, Avalain heard Boromir say next, "It is a _**gift. **_A gift to the foes of Mordor! Why not use this Ring?" Excitement overtook his voice, and all appraised him curiously as he said, "Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of _**our **_people are your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy—let us use it against him!"

Objected Aragorn, "You cannot wield it. None of us can… the One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master!"

"And what would a Ranger know of this matter?" scowled Boromir. From the unfriendly glances in their eyes, Avalain inferred that they had met before, and that it had not necessarily resulted well. Even so, she was surprised at Boromir's abnormal behavior. With a shudder, she thought darkly that perhaps it was the influence of the Ring… she refused to believe it.

Interrupting her thoughts, Legolas rose swiftly. His eyes filled with disdain and remembrance—oh, wonderful, thought Avalain. _**Another **_enemy of Boromir's—said the Elf, "This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

A stunned silence settled over the council. Except for the Elves who called Rivendell home, it appeared no one was expecting to hear such a thing. Boromir raised his eyebrows and asked curiously, "Aragorn? This is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor," added Legolas curtly.

Exasperated—Aragorn almost never revealed his true identity—said he in Elvish, "Sit down, Legolas." Avalain could see the tension in Aragorn's eyes as his gaze was redirected towards Boromir.

To Avalain's astonishment, said Boromir, "Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king," before sitting back down.

"Boromir, are you all right?" Avalain whispered cautiously. She was quite certain that her friend was not himself—meeting her eyes, the Man blinked once. The edge of anger and tension disappeared from his gaze and he seemed to have returned to normal.

"Thank you, Avalain," he responded, not necessarily answering her question but supplying her with the information she desired. Glad that the trance had again been broken, the curiosity of the Elvish princess piqued. What power did the Ring pertain that so easily corrupted the minds of Men?

Her eyes fell upon the dread Ring; at first she found nothing extraordinary about it. She monitored its appearance before suddenly hearing a harsh whispering. "_Avalain. Avalain…_"

Scowling at the tiny weapon, Avalain shook her head—she did not believe its power was as great as had the fables she'd learnt had said.

Gandalf's words of, "Aragorn is right. We cannot use it," caused Avalain to again pay full attention to the debate. For a short time, she believed the wizard's eyes to be on her… she knew Gandalf was attempting to see if she had succumbed to the trance of the Ring.

She shook her head to inform him she felt fine.

The voice of her father brought Avalain spiraling back to the present; his words were ominous. "You have only one choice—the Ring must be destroyed."

"Then what are we waiting for?" a Dwarf by name of Gimli asked. He rose from his seat, his eyes filled with malice. Shouting in defiance, he brought his axe upon the golden band—

And then he was blasted backwards. Chunks of metal flew in all directions as the axe broke into pieces. Avalain heard the metal fall to the ground and saw smoke rise from the collision. What she saw next caused her eyes to widen—the Ring sat proudly, unharmed, as if marveling in its victory against the defeated axe.

In explanation of the Ring's resilience, said Lord Elrond, "The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of _**you**_ must do this."

There was a short pause, and then said Boromir with his head in his hand, "One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep… the Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland riddled with fire, dust, and ash. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand Men could you do this. It is folly."  
>Again, Legolas rose to retort. "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has just said? The Ring must be destroyed! Or do you not care about that?"<p>

"Do not speak to me about not caring!" shouted Boromir with anger. He stood up and faced Legolas. Their gazes contained loathing and frustration. "Considering that you conspired against the idea of using the—"

"_**Enough!**_" shrieked Avalain, her face pale. Their angry shouts reminded her of the day they just about bludgeoned each other to death. Leaping up, she rushed over to them and shoved them back into their seats. "Now is not the time to argue like children! Both of you silence yourselves as we decide what is to be done with this detestable Ring!"

Her goal accomplished, she made doubly sure that neither Boromir nor Legolas would disobey. Only after that was done did she return to her seat and wait for the next to speak.

Realizing that he was not to cross his dear Avalain, Legolas only said quietly, "The Ring must be destroyed. That is not up for discussion."

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it!" exclaimed Gimli, glaring at him out of the corner of his eye.

"But if we fail, what then?" asked Boromir. It appeared he was still against the imminent destruction of the Ring as he exclaimed, "What happens when Sauron takes back what is rightfully his!"

Legolas said nothing—Gimli shot up in his seat and shouted, "I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf! Never trust an Elf!"

This, naturally, caused for an outburst all around the council. The Elves were offended at the Dwarf's comment, and the Dwarves leapt up to defend Gimli's judgment. The Men, apparently, just wished to intervene and add in their own two-sense. Their shouts grew loud enough that Lord Elrond could not subdue them.

Instead of offending Lord Elrond with the Black Speech again, Gandalf rose from his seat and yelled in the midst of the fray, "Do you not understand? While you bicker, Sauron's power grows! None can escape it—you'll all be destroyed!"

Hearing the chaos that erupted, Avalain and Arwen exchanged looks before rising and using their power to put irresistible charm in their voices. And whilst a few Men and a couple Elves gave pause and submit themselves to the princesses' spells, the others did not even glance their way.

Knowing their attempt failed, Arwen instructed her sister to break up the verbal assaults while she kept those who were silenced happy. Avalain was just about to oblige and perhaps even offer to take the Ring herself—Gimli didn't know her well though Gloin very much enjoyed Avalain's company—but then a small voice entered her ears. "I will take it!"

Only Avalain heard the outburst; she froze. The voice belonged to none other than Frodo Baggins, and the Elvish princess's heart burst in grief… he did not know what he was volunteering for. Nonetheless, his fair voice rang out again.

"I will take it!"

Now everyone heard these words. Upon Gandalf's face Avalain could see the same grief she felt. As one, they turned to face Frodo, who had risen from his seat and was on the outskirts of the crowd, his face pale but determined as he announced, "I will take the Ring to Mordor." Then, glancing at Avalain and Gandalf, he added with difficulty, "Though… I do not know the way."

Instantly, the wizard stepped forward and declared, "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear." With these words, he stepped over to the halfling and put his hand on Frodo's shoulder. Knowing that his mentor and friend would be alongside him, Frodo could only be relieved slightly as the realization of what he had done overtook him.

Because Avalain was still in shock, she could not yet move or speak. But behind her, she heard Aragorn say, "If by my life or death I can protect you, I will. You have my sword." And with that, he too came to stand behind the hobbit.

"And you have my bow," said Legolas. Avalain swallowed a gasp; yet it was heard.

Legolas gave her a weak smile, but his gaze clearly proclaimed the finality of his decision. She saw the fortitude locked in her dear friend's expression and knew there was nothing she could say that would sway him.

Gimli also rose and—with a spare axe in his hand—said gruffly, "And my axe!" He too made his way towards Frodo. He stood by Legolas; neither looked very happy about it.

There was a pause, and Avalain glanced cautiously at Boromir. He seemed to be pondering the situation at hand, and did not notice Avalain as he focused on the group in front of him. Then, much to her desolation, he said, "You carry the fates of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done."

As he walked to Frodo, Avalain lurched and swayed on the spot. Here, standing in front of her, were five of the greatest joys in her life. The Dwarf named Gimli also had her care even though she had not known him very long—upon his arrival, they had exchanged quite a few words and laughs. To see the six of them in front of her, perhaps never to return, caused her head to pound and her vision to become tainted with red and white out of fear.

"Hey!" shouted a voice from behind some bushes. There came a rustling of a great many of them, and suddenly Samwise Gamgee was visible as he ran up to Frodo and declared, "Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me."

With a sort of amusement, said Lord Elrond, "No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you even when _**he **_is summoned to a secret Council and _**you **_are not."

Just then, two voices proclaimed, "Hey! We're coming too!"

And out from behind two columns emerged Merry and Pippin, sprinting as quickly as their legs could carry them. Upon reaching Frodo, huffed Merry, "And you'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!"

"Anyway," said Pippin, "you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission. Quest… Thing!" he finished haughtily.

Gandalf shared an exasperated look with Lord Elrond, but the Elven Lord seemed quite impressed at the hobbit's bravery… even if it _**was **_mingled with foolishness. Merry, however, glared at his friend and muttered, "Well, that rules _**you **_out, Pip."

Pippin nodded eagerly as if to agree—then he glared at Merry as the words sank in.

As Avalain gazed at the scene in front of her, her mind went completely blank. Here were nine of the twelve people she cared most about. All prepared to march to Mordor, all prepared to leave and most likely never return to her.

All prepared to die.

She couldn't handle that. She gasped and nearly tripped over her own legs; she would have if Arwen hadn't stopped her fall. It was then that Boromir and Legolas each gazed at her, at her broken state. Remembering her blankness during the last thirty years, they realized what they would be doing to their dear Avalain.

And then her father began to speak. "Nine companions..."

"Wait!" gasped the younger princess of Rivendell. Stumbling forward, she knew what she had to do. After all, she could fight too, could she not? Avalain knew she was perfectly capable of defending herself, and she was certain that should she be left behind, she would gradually sink into the same stupor she had been found in by Boromir and Faramir.

Confused by her interruption, Lord Elrond ceased speaking and turned his attention towards his younger daughter. And then, confidently did Avalain say, "I wish to go as well."

Clamoring erupted from the rest of the council, particularly from the Elves. Clearly, they thought, she was already mad. Elvish princesses were never taught to fight! Should she go, Avalain would perish quickly and lose everything.

But Avalain's tone gave Lord Elrond pause.

He too, however, came to think along the lines of the remaining Elves. Placing his words carefully to not destroy his hopeful daughter, said he, "Avalain, you cannot go. Rivendell needs you, just as your sister and I do. At any rate, you know not how to fight."

"Yes, she does!" exclaimed Pippin indignantly. "She was the one to fend off three of the Nine on top of that watchtower!"

Before her father could speak, said Avalain, "Father, you are wrong. I am sorry for never telling you, but when I was younger I searched for an instructor. After many failed attempts, I finally found one who agreed to teach me. For many years we trained without your knowing… the common consent is that women should not be taught to fight, but Father, if Orcs rampage our city one day, what difference would it make? Would Orcs spare the females just because they do not know how to fight? No! The rule must be revoked… it was that example which convinced my mentor to teach me. I apologize for keeping secrets from you, but I _**can **_fight."

Silence enveloped the Council before her father spoke slowly, "Avalain… my daughter, you are needed here. You cannot go."

"All my life I have been told what I can and cannot do!" wailed she. "I have been told that I cannot fight, that I cannot be a warrior, that I cannot defend my people! But I _**have **_fought, I _**am **_a warrior, and I _**have **_defended my people! I've done all of that, and so much more! I have saved the lives of hundreds of Men, I have used wizard's magic, I have seen my star Transform to a black hole and then to a new star, I have done all that! But what I cannot do and will never be able to is look over the lands to be sure that these nine people whom I love will be safe! That is a gift given only to the Lords and their eldest children—yourself and Arwen. I will never be certain they are alive and well, and I promise you Father, that if I should remain behind, you will find me as I was five years ago. But I will not let that happen ever again. So let me tell you this—no matter what your answer may be, I _**will not **_be left alone again."

Needless to say, at Avalain's desperate persistence, all were startled. There was not one who was not shocked. Hearing the silence, Avalain forced herself to return to her seat, where she refused to meet anyone's eyes.

But that was when she heard, "Show me."

Raising her head slightly, Avalain looked to her father. She did not understand his message until he explained, "Show me you can fight."

At first she felt like he was mocking her. The sincerity in his face, however, made her feel like he truly wished to observe the skills she had acquired over the years.

She nodded once and rushed off to find her bow. Within a minute she returned, the familiar feel of it in her hand. By her side, her sword was sheathed and strapped to a belt, as was her dagger. The Elves all murmured amongst themselves about whether Avalain was truly learned in such arts, and if she was, who taught her.

Noticing that she was ready, Lord Elrond gestured to a tree a hundred feet in front of her. Then he ordered, "Shoot an arrow through the knot in the center."

Avalain knew exactly what he was talking about. At the middle of the tree's height, there was a small knot roughly three inches wide and five inches tall.

Smiling, Avalain loaded her bow almost without thought. Stopping only for one second to exact her aim, she let the arrow fly and watched it hit the very knot on the tree she had been ordered to puncture.

The results of her shot were immediate and satisfying… Avalain heard the whispers behind her. But, not ready to let his daughter go on the mission, said Lord Elrond next, "Upon seeing the next bird that flies overhead—shoot it."

Knowing that she could quickly heal it and let it escape back into the air, Avalain only nodded and waited. Surely it would not be long, for the day was beautifully bright and cheery, and the sounds of birds were nearby… When finally the next one showed its face, Avalain let her arrow loose with only a mere second's time for aim before allowing it to fly.

All watched as the bird tumbled into Avalain's outstretched hands. As Avalain had intended, the arrow had only pierced the robin's wing. Without looking at her father, she made sure all could see her success before withdrawing the arrow from the wound and healing the bird so it could fly free.

Upon tossing the robin back up into the sky, she turned to face her father with a hint of defiance. His eyes sparked with wonder before he whispered, "Who instructed you to this?"

But remembering that the law was just that despite her argument, Avalain only smiled wryly and said, "I shall not speak his or her name simply because I have no idea what you wish the information for."

Seeing the astounded expression upon Lord Elrond's face, Avalain smiled and said, "However… I _**did **_have a separate mentor for my dagger." Revealing her weapon from its sheath, she mused afterward, "To a degree. The person gave me tips. I taught myself how to use this weapon. I do not believe my efforts were in vain."

To emphasize her point, Avalain threw the dagger at the tree which held her previous arrow. The council watched as the projectile whizzed through the air and landed in a chink of the bark just above the arrow.

Now exclamations of shock burst out. It took almost a full minute for Arwen and Lord Elrond to silence them all, and even then whispers were passed around.

Realizing that he was swiftly being depleted of tests, said her father at last, "I wish to see how you have been taught with the sword. Whether someone would wish to show me how well my daughter can defend herself voluntarily or if she herself would pick someone to challenge her, I would like to see the results."

This excited Avalain—should she pass her father's last inspection, there would be no reason for her to remain behind! Eagerly she glanced around, but it appeared that all would rather _**watch **_her fight than do so.

At last, however, said a voice that she knew very well… "Personally, I wish to see how she does. And I would be _**honored **_to experiment with it firsthand."

Avalain turned to face Legolas as he too withdrew a sword. She resisted a groan seeing the small upturn to her friend's lips. She knew that he would defeat her… her only hope was that the sparring would prove her skills to Lord Elrond.

"Oh, no," she said aloud, knowing that despite his favoritism for a bow and arrows, Legolas was quite adept with sword-fighting. She had never before seen him in the field of battle with a sword in his hand, but she had watched him during training at Gondor and knew this was a battle she would not win. Besides, he was her _**mentor. **_

Legolas only smiled before raising his sword. Avalain did the same.

The sound of metal against metal vibrated through the air. Their hands and swords were nothing short of blurs spinning through the air. Each focused solely on the fight, hoping to exact their opponent's weak point. Soon, the swords began made their way dangerously close to each other's bodies.

The first time this occurred was when Legolas forced Avalain to leap into the small table on which the Ring had been placed. She stumbled but rolled backwards, narrowly escaping his blade. That was soon followed up by Legolas having to leap backward, nearly crashing into one of the marble columns. Had he been driven up against it, it would've been enough for Avalain to charge towards him and pin him to it. But Legolas knew better.

Next, Avalain gasped and was forced to duck as the sword strayed over her head. Glaring at Legolas malevolently, she soon counterattacked with a short jab, forcing her counterpart to dart to his left so quickly that he almost tripped. As Avalain rose and began to come after him, she yelped aloud and was forced slide her legs in opposite directions to avoid Legolas's sword from slicing across her side. The sound of ripping fabric tore through the air, but all Avalain did was laugh.

Spurred to greater hopes, she began performing tricky attack maneuvers that Legolas only realized just in time. By that time, they each got a feel for each other's fighting style, and their intense battle only grew longer.

At last, however, Avalain performed her fatal mistake—leaping to the side after dodging his sword, she whirled around and found herself face to face with one of the marble columns surrounding the area. She had not realized how far she'd been backed up—too late she turned around and readied to face him. Legolas finally prevailed in knocking her sword out of her hands, raising his own so that it was poised at her throat.

For a moment, the only sounds that could be heard were that of Avalain's and Legolas's deep breathing. Personally, Avalain was quite proud of her performance despite the fact that her friend had bested her—but that had been inevitable. Besides, she had proved to be rather worthy of this battle.

The next thing she knew, her father was speaking. "I have never before seen a match parallel to that."

Facing her father, Avalain impatiently wiped away the sweat at her brow. Then, asked she hopefully, "I suppose you now believe that I can defend myself?"

With a small smile, said Lord Elrond, "Yes, I daresay I can. And of course, you are right about the consent of the Elves… we can all see now that the way of fighting should be open to everyone in our community. As it is, if you truly wish to go alongside Frodo Baggins, you may."

Avalain gasped and turned to face the others, who were all watching her with grins upon their faces. Although she was glad to see their expressions, the look on Frodo Baggins's face was perhaps the most heartwarming of all. His eyes lit up like blue suns, his smile radiant since Avalain was to accompany him… he had grown quite fond of the Elven princess.

"I am going," she said at last. "I wish to do my part to ease the burden this world has to bear. And this I swear—I will not allow defeat or capture to overcome us. As long as I draw breath, I shall fight until the Ring is destroyed… or until the second darkness is nigh. Though even then, I will remain standing, _**resisting,**_ until my eyes close at long last."

"Well said!" laughed the wizard, relieved that Avalain should be sharing the perilous road with him. "I daresay that out of all of us, your daughter shall be the hardest to best, Lord Elrond!"

Smiling half out of pride, half out of rue, Lord Elrond said nothing. Glancing over all those who were to partake in the journey to Mordor, mused he at last, "Ten companions… You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."

"Great!" exclaimed Pippin. Then, proving he hadn't been eavesdropping over the council long, added he, "Where are we going?"

The next four days were spent with the Fellowship's preparation of leave. In Avalain's case, however, she spent as much time with her sister as possible.

Many times the sisters found themselves in tears as they spoke in their rooms. It wasn't until too late that Avalain remembered the fate of her sister now that she was to be left behind… but Arwen, unlike her younger, had not learned to fight. She was able to defend herself very well with throwing knives, but in the field of battle that was but a trifle of the skills she would need to have acquired.

"Again I must apologize," said Avalain, restraining more tears. "I did not think of this until too late!"

"No, sister," replied Arwen quietly. "You love all whom are leaving this place in three days' time. And whereas I wish to accompany you, that is not to be. I admired your wish to fight no matter what father said… and I know that both you _**and **_Aragorn shall return. You were right upon saying that you would not know of their fates. I am able to see over the lands to see whether they are still alive. It is only fitting that you should travel alongside them for us both."

The day arrived. Avalain arose that particular morning with excitement. She was to travel alongside Frodo and the others to keep the world in balance…

She rose and snatched up a deeply purple dress. She took only a few more moments to grab her bow and quiver off her nightstand before rushing towards the entrance of the palace, where her father would escort her to the city's entrance.

As expected, Lord Elrond was facing the exit of Rivendell. As Avalain came up to him, she saw that he was not alone… Legolas was beside him. They appeared to be having a discussion.

Avalain could not decipher any words before Legolas spotted her arrival. Instantly the conversation halted, leaving Avalain curious… but she said nothing.

The silver gate was soon in view. Many of the others had already arrived. Gandalf and Aragorn smiled; Frodo tried valiantly for one, but was not able. To reassure him, Avalain placed a hand gently on the hobbit's shoulder.

Within the next ten minutes all were present. Arwen gracefully descended to see those who were to leave. The sisters shared a look before embracing, all their words in that gesture.

"I will come back," insisted Avalain. "I swear it."

Lord Elrond turned his gaze away from his daughter to say, "The Ring-bearer is setting out on the quest for Mount Doom. And you who travel with him, no oath nor bond is laid to go further than you will. Farewell, and hold to your purpose. May the blessings of Elves and Men and all free-folk go with you."

"The Fellowship awaits the Ring-bearer," said Gandalf.

Frodo took one swift glance at those accompanying him. Then he turned and stepped through the silver gate. He soon reached the fork in the woods just beyond the exit. Avalain heard him ask, "Mordor, Gandalf… is it left or right?"

Gandalf put a hand on Frodo's left shoulder and quietly said, "Left."

Giving her family one last smile, Avalain followed the Fellowship as it departed. She saw her sister and her father wave farewell, which she returned, and then she moved towards Frodo to help guide him on his journey. They exchanged looks saying to not turn back… so Avalain did not. For although she loved much she left behind, much of it was beside her also.


	8. Chapter 8

The Fellowship steadily made their way south. After exiting the valley, the ten companions crossed the plains. Once the tall grasses receded, Avalain helped Pippin and Frodo cross the rocky terrain that next appeared. The footing was treacherous, and each person—excluding Aragorn, for he knew the land better than the rest—tripped at least once.

At last, the day came to a close. Avalain and the others distributed watches for the night. But before retiring for sleep, she and Boromir had a rather entertaining argument about who would be able to shoot more arrows accurately into a tree that stood a hundred feet away.

Their contest ended with a tie.

But as she turned to place her bow beside her, Avalain saw the hobbits watching her with impressment. Remembering a promise she had made on top of Amon Súl, said she with a smile, "I do not know if you recall, but I promised to teach you the basics of fighting. Needless to say, whether you welcome the practice or not, I am _**going **_to teach you."

The hobbits laughed at her flippant firmness and agreed to begin the following day. After hearing Boromir say he would help her, seeing as there were four halflings and one teacher, Avalain slept soundly through the night.

The next week passed; each day brought the Fellowship closer to Mordor. At last, Gandalf relayed his plans to those who followed, but it was only thanks to Avalain's never ending persistence that he did.

"We must hold this course west of the Misty Mountains for forty days. If our luck holds, the Gap of Rohan will still be open to us. From there, our road turns east to Mordor."

Satisfied with what she had uncovered, Avalain continued walking.

At last, Gandalf and Aragorn called for a break. The sun was high in the sky, but Avalain knew that in a couple hours it would be sinking over the horizon. She grinned when she heard the familiar sound of swords and turned to find Boromir teaching Merry and Pippin, seeing as the previous night they had been working Frodo and Sam.

"Two, one, five!" exclaimed Boromir. Pippin shuffled backwards, raising his sword in the appropriate positions. Avalain rewarded him with a smile—she and Boromir taught the hobbits a few basic stances. Then they called out the numbers so they could parry their mentors' attacks. Each hobbit was steadily improving in his studies. "Good, very good!"

"Move your feet," said Aragorn from the sidelines. Pippin obeyed, his feet shuffling back and forth as he held Boromir off.

Impressed, exclaimed Merry, "You look good, Pippin!"

"Thanks!"

Grinning, Avalain withdrew her sword. "Now, Merry," she said, a devious smile upon her face. The hobbit took one look at her and _**knew **_she had some tricks up her sleeve.

With that, Avalain began calling out the positions she was positive Merry knew by heart. "One, three, six!" The hobbit responded to her summons with ease. Afterwards, however, she began demanding some of the more difficult stances. "Seven, ten, eight!"

As Merry struggled to keep up, Avalain returned to the basics, but pressed him harder. At Aragorn's encouragement, he fought back bravely—he even managed to throw some attacks at her, but Avalain sensed they were held back as if the hobbit didn't want to hurt her.

"Never attack with hesitance!" instructed she calmly, dodging the feeble attempts with ease. "When in a real fight, your opponent will not be as noble as you. With training, if you cut me, you cut me. It matters not."

Hearing this, the hobbit pushed forward, causing Avalain to exert more energy. For a while this endured, and she was able to hear Boromir demanding more from Pippin. At last, Avalain found herself a window of opportunity.

Merry had attempted to jab at her, but the way his blade was angled made it easy for Avalain to parry and then jerk upward. The hobbit's short sword was thrown out of his hands. He followed the sword with his eyes as it flew up and towards Gimli, who announced, "If anyone was to ask my opinion—which I note, they're _**not**_—I'd say we were taking the _**long**_ way round! Gandalf, we could pass through the Mines of Moria! My cousin Balin would give us a royal welcome."

Avalain had no qualms with visiting Balin, but at the mention of the Mines of Moria, a shiver went up her spine. There had been rumor of a great evil in that place, and she did not know if those whispers were true.

Gandalf's response was, "No, Gimli. I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice."

By that time, Merry had retrieved his sword. Meanwhile, Pippin had just been disarmed by Boromir. All faced each other, and with one smile between the tutors, the hobbits exchanged looks, sure that whatever scheme Boromir and Avalain had in mind would not end well for them.

"Now," said Avalain sweetly. "Let us fight you without calling positions. We won't press you as hard, but it will be interesting to see what occurs."

"I have a better idea," interrupted Pippin, who did not like the idea of going against Boromir without aid. "Let one of you be on _**my **_side, the other on _**Merry's. **_Then you fight each _**other. **_Hmm?"

A spark flew through Avalain's eyes. When she glanced at Boromir, she saw the same flash run in his gaze. Witnessing it, the princess raised her sword. "I've been meaning to try this for a long time," grinned she, glaring at him challengingly.

"As have I."

They raised their swords and began to spar heatedly. After watching them with astonishment for a few moments, the hobbits charged one another as well, each determined to win out over the other. Despite the fact that they had never spoken which team was which, it was with nonverbal consent that Pippin sided with Avalain and Merry with Boromir.

This continued for a while—much to Aragorn's amusement—until Avalain switched opponents and began fighting with Merry. He was quite skilled realizing this was a competitive level, and Pippin likewise was fighting well for what little training they had received.

Suddenly, however, an indignant, "OW!" reached Avalain's ears.

She then heard Boromir exclaim, "Oh, sorry!" But instead of accepting the apology, Pippin kicked Boromir in the shin. Both Man and hobbit fell to the ground, Merry swiftly rushing to the aid of his kin, leaving Avalain clutching her stomach due to laughter. Boromir also laughed as the hobbits tackled him to the ground.

"Ouch, he's got my arm, he's got my arm!" shouted Merry with laughter.

"For the Shire!" declared Pippin.

Aragorn, who was still smiling in a dignified sort of way, finally rose seeing that Avalain was not in enough control of herself to aid Boromir. Though he wished to keep watching, said Aragorn, "Gentlemen, that's enough!"

Instead of obeying, Merry and Pippin turned to Aragorn and flipped _**him **_by the shins as well.

Avalain had tears in her eyes she was laughing so hard.

Seeing her mirth, the hobbits crossed their arms in a facetious manner. They glanced at each other once before rising swiftly and pushing her down—by the unfortunate trajectory and force with which she was pushed, Avalain landed right on top of Aragorn.

"Ouch," muttered he.

"Sorry!" exclaimed Avalain.

Boromir—who had managed to rise by this time—laughed as the hobbits piled on top of the princess and the Ranger. Though Avalain was laughing still, cried she, "Ow! Merry, Pippin, get off me! This is highly improper!"

Cried Boromir with a grin, "Avalain, they're hobbits! Do they even _**heed **_the word improper?"

Needless to say, this offense caused for him to be tackled back to the ground beside Avalain and Aragorn.

After regaining control of themselves, all rose and brushed themselves off. Avalain was the first to notice Sam staring off into the distance. Narrowing her eyes, Avalain could see what he did. There was a hint of black against the field of white and blue in the sky.

"What is that?" asked Sam, squinting.

"Nothing, just a wisp of cloud!" scoffed Gimli.

But Boromir was a bit more observant. "It's moving fast…" said he slowly. "Against the wind…"

"Crébain from Dunland!" shouted Legolas.

"Hide!" ushered Aragorn; they hurried to obey. Avalain scooped up the weapons and threw them under the rocks—Frodo was instantly brought under a boulder beside Gandalf. Aragorn and Sam quelled the cooking fire and packed up the food before diving under rocks. Gimli and Legolas took refuge from the surrounding bushes.

"Pippin!" ushered Avalain, seeing that he was still attempting to grab the things left behind. Knowing the hobbit heard her quiet call, she waited for him to join her in the bushes beside Legolas. Once he was safe, she shielded the hobbit from view.

The mob of black crows swooped down noisily from the sky, filling the campsite the Fellowship had occupied a minute beforehand. Their eyes were an unnatural glittery black. Before anyone could do anything, the murder of crows fluttered away on their ebony black wings.

Once they were gone, the Fellowship cautiously emerged from their concealment. Gandalf was the first to speak. "Spies of Saruman," he explained in disgust. "The passage south is being watched." He turned to look at the mountain. "We must take the pass of Caradhras!"

Avalain turned to the white mountain looming above them all. She had heard tales of the bitter cold, frigid ice, and gusting winds. Though the girl was not afraid for herself—Elves were able to walk on top of snow—she feared for the hobbits were not as lucky.

Making her way towards the wizard, whispered she, "I would suggest against it, Gandalf. The hobbits are not meant for such brutal conditions—I fear for their health and safety. Never before have they had to endure bitterness of the mountains."

"We have no other choice, Avalain," was Gandalf's calm finality.

Despite the warning in his voice, the princess persisted against her better judgment. "But Gandalf, there are many choices. If the crows return to Saruman, do you not think he will have guessed your secondary plan? Should we continue on the path we are on now, he will never think to guess of it!"

His eyes narrowing, said he, "There are more spies than those crows about."

"Gandalf, Frodo and the others—"

"Unless you can think of another way past the mountains other than the Gap of Rohan, Avalain Nightshade, I would love to hear it!" snapped the wizard. "I know Caradhras is a dangerous road, but so is this entire quest! Please do not tell me you suggest the Mines of Moria," said Gandalf, his voice becoming quieter and wearier. "You know of what lurks in the darkness there."

Avalain shuddered and murmured, "I have heard legends of a great evil awakening in the shadow of those mines, though my knowledge does not extend further than that."

"And let us hope it never has to," mumbled Gandalf. "I need you on my side, Avalain. If you _**do **_think of an alternate route, my ears are open. But for now, there is no other choice except the mountain."

For a moment, Avalain could say nothing. His worry confused her until she realized… whatever could have been reborn in the mines must be horrendous and full of dark power. It was then that she knew his decision of the freezing mountains was wiser than the long dark of Moria, even _**if **_the Dwarves would have welcomed the Fellowship like their own kin.

Sighing, said she, "Very well, Gandalf. After all, you are the leader of this company, and we can only trust that your judgment is best."

She had sought to compliment him to raise his dampened spirits; Avalain knew she had succeeded witnessing his small smile. Without more discussion, the Fellowship followed the wizard towards the steep mountain, for surely if they stayed, the crows would return.

More days passed, and at last the Fellowship reached the base of the mountain. Gazing over the rocky terrain, Avalain thought wistfully of how three days beforehand she, Merry, Pippin, Boromir, and Aragorn were laughing in one of the boulders' hidden crevices. Returning her attention to her dear hobbits, Avalain could see anxiety in Pippin's eyes.

Withdrawing a spare cloak, she draped it around Pippin's shoulders and murmured, "You must be strong here, my friend. This journey was never meant to be easy."

With one arm around his shoulders, Avalain proceeded in rising up the slope of Caradhras. No other mountain had such a tall peak or such amounts of snow—merely two hours later three inches of it had fallen, and they were not even at the top of the mountain.

The journey upwards was a great toil. More than once Avalain lunged forward to prevent either Merry or Pippin from falling, though she fell in the snow once herself. With help from Legolas, she rose and shook her dress loose of snow before moving stubbornly onward.

At last the top of the mountain was visible. Avalain laughed at the majestic sight—the everything below appeared like a landscape painting.

"Look, Pippin, Frodo!" cried Avalain. "See how far we have come!"

Pippin and Frodo followed her gaze, and their eyes widened exponentially. It seemed that they had never really noticed their moving forward; as if the forward shuffling of their feet was in only one place. As Frodo gazed across the land, however, he lost his footing and began tumbling down the slope.

"Frodo!" called Avalain and Aragorn. They helped him up, and Avalain instantly exchanged his now drenched cloak for hers despite his protests. Frodo's hand made its way to his neck, where he kept the Ring on a chain and carried it as a necklace.

But something was wrong—he searched with a frantic quickness. Avalain restrained a gasp as she realized he had lost the Ring during his fall… she looked up to find Boromir with the chain in his hands. He was marveling at the Ring as if he'd never seen it before; her breath caught to see the strange change in his eyes.

"Boromir," said Aragorn carefully.

"It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing. Such a little thing…" mused Boromir as he looked curiously at the Ring.

Raising his voice, repeated Aragorn, "Boromir!"

Broken from his gaze, Boromir looked up.

His eyes narrowing, ordered Aragorn authoritatively, "Give the Ring to Frodo."

Boromir blinked, and Avalain watched him warily. Suddenly she could see he returned to normal, for his eyes lost the strange glimmer they had obtained. Glancing at Aragorn with apprehension, he walked towards Frodo and Aragorn, the hand with the Ring outstretched.

Frodo retook the Ring without question. He blinked once and said nothing.

"As you wish," said Boromir at last, valiantly attempting for a smile. "I care not." With that, he chuckled and again ascended the slope. When Avalain glanced at Aragorn, she saw that his hand had been clenching the hilt of his sword.

Within the next couple of days, the Fellowship finally made it to the perilous edges of Caradhras. Upon arriving, snow trickled daintily from the sky. But as they proceeded, all realized that the weather was not to be as benign as it had been.

On the second day, a blizzard was upon them. Snow flew directly into their eyes and faces. Fierce winds bit at their clothes and skin.

Avalain attempted to keep Frodo warm, though she noticed her efforts only provided little success. Though she supplied the hobbit with her last cloak and kept her arms around his shoulders at all times, forcing him to allow herself to take the worst of the ferocious wind, he still shivered while walking. She did not know of any other ways to comfort him and was therefore forced to realize that she could no longer provide any aid.

Though she would have been able to walk on top of the snow as Legolas did, she refused to. Standing alongside Frodo was the second reason she had so desired to come, and the Elven princess refused to abandon him.

As she and the others cautiously walked along the edges of the mountain, she saw Legolas stop and glance around. Noting the way he stared into the distance, she felt something would soon fall over the Fellowship.

"There is a fell voice on the air," he announced, the howling wind drowning out the majority of his words.

As he spoke, however, Avalain came to realize that what he said was true. In another language, a deep voice chanted… the sound brought a chill to her spine.

And she recognized that voice—it was Saruman the White.

"It's Saruman!" shouted Gandalf, glaring into the distance.

Avalain pushed Frodo against the rocks to shield him from the sudden onslaught of snow as it barreled upon her head. She shook wildly as the freezing precipitation leaked through her cloak and dress, soaking her skin with its cold. Frodo felt her shiver and asked, "Avalain?" Concern filled his muffled voice.

She only pressed him tighter against her. Avalain could do nothing except let the snow bury her and Frodo.

After a pause, she opened the eyes she didn't remember closing. The first thing she felt was his hands around her back, as if he knew she was sacrificing her own health for his safety. When Frodo glanced up at her, she said, her voice a whisper, "I will try to get us out of here. Keep against me so snow doesn't fall upon you."

She reached up and broke the surface of white. She was suddenly able to see the clouds and mountains—pushing outward, the wall of snow crumbled and fell off the mountain's edge.

Freeing herself and Frodo, she saw that the others had done the same and were looking around wildly. They also were buried head-to-toe in the snow. Avalain was relieved to see that Boromir had sheltered both Merry and Pippin while Sam was under the protection of Aragorn.

After seeing that everyone had surfaced, Aragorn shouted to the wizard, "He's trying to bring down the mountain! Gandalf, we must turn back!"

"No!" cried Gandalf.

He rose from his containment of white and raised his staff. Holding it out to the southwest, he began chanting in a foreign language… but Avalain sensed that they were not out of danger.

Suddenly, a lightning bolt struck the top of the mountain. Loose chunks of rock began tumbling down the mountainside. Avalain gasped, throwing herself and Frodo against the ledge.

The crunching of dozens of rocks was deafening. With the rocks fell more snow, and once more they were all buried within a wall of white.

Breaking through the barrier yet again, Avalain made sure Frodo was safe and well before glancing around and making sure the others were alright too. Avalain began to panic upon seeing that including herself, only nine were present.

"Boromir!" she cried, seeing Merry and Pippin grabbing over the edge of the cliff.

Dashing over to them, she ignored Legolas's interjections of keeping safe and lunged to grab Boromir's hand. She felt the chill of his hands and felt the slickness of it from the snow… yet she lay upon the ground of the stone ledge. Using all her strength, Avalain pulled and slowly began to bring Boromir back to safety.

After a moment, Aragorn dove beside her and started aiding her in rescuing Boromir, but more snow began to fall down upon them. The Elven princess, however, refused to give up and leave him dangling from the side of the cliff.

Just before another avalanche of snow came upon them, she managed to tug him straight up from the side of the ledge. Boromir and Avalain stumbled back the exact moment the snow landed. As it rained down upon their heads, they fell upon the ledge.

Once the white ceased falling in their eyes, Avalain looked up at Boromir, who had accidentally fallen upon her. Attempting to restrain a smile, muttered she, "I save your life, and this is how you repay me? Get off."

"Fair enough," replied he, restraining the same smile. Suddenly, the snow was plowed off them and Aragorn and Legolas were in view. Avalain's smile quickly faded as Legolas glared down at Boromir with loathing. Boromir returned it.

Avalain said nothing; but she smiled as Frodo and Pippin cried, "Avalain! Avalain!" and jumped upon the opportunity to help her stand back up. Once they saw that she was well, they were both reassured greatly.

The howling of the wind picked up again, and the fell voice on the air returned. The Fellowship could hardly hear one another over such noise, and it forced Boromir to shout, "We must get off the mountain! Make for the Gap of Rohan, and take the west road to my city!"

"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" objected Aragorn.

Shouted Gimli in contradiction, "We cannot go over the mountains, let us go under it! Let us go through the Mines of Moria."

Avalain and Gandalf alike stopped short at this suggestion. Each knew of the dangers of this last choice, but in truth there was no other better option. Saruman had just demonstrated his power from so far away… who could tell what he would be able to do should they draw closer? Caradhras was never meant to work—both the mountain and Saruman were working against them, and the hobbits were freezing where they stood.

All was silent as Gandalf finally decreed, "Let the Ring-bearer… decide."

Frodo's head jerked to look at Gandalf. Avalain held him close, but she felt that not even she could help him. His gaze swerved from Avalain to the wizard to the others… at last, he said, "We shall go through the Mines."  
>There was a pause before the wizard said, "So be it." And the Fellowship turned around.<p>

Over the next couple days, it was left to Avalain to keep spirits high… Although Gimli suited well with Frodo's decision and was much friendlier, the others—especially Gandalf—were not able to retain such excitement.

On the fourth day, after training Frodo and Merry, Avalain said with a smile that the walls of the great Dwarvish City would be visible the next day. This not only brought gladness to the hobbits, but to all, for which the princess was pleased.

True to her word, the following evening the Fellowship's destination was in view. Said Gimli with astonishment, "The walls… of Moria."

He pointed to the side of the mountain, but Avalain did not see any door. She smirked—she had placed the enchantments of concealment upon the Dwarvish doors herself.

Approaching the base of the mountain, Avalain perused the stone with her eyes. Not even her Elvish vision could detect where the doors were craftily concealed.

"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed," said Gimli, tapping his axe against the stone as if to listen for a hollow ringing.

"Yes, their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are forgotten," added Gandalf.

Beside her, Avalain heard Legolas mutter, "Why doesn't that surprise me?" She couldn't help but laugh quietly. Though she did not see it, she would've found a warm smile towards her despite Gimli's glower.

"Ah!" Gandalf's exclamation gained the attention of the Fellowship. He stood in front of the wall and said, "_Ithildin. _It mirrors only starlight… and moonlight."

The faint carvings in the mountainside quickly became more pronounced as the last wisp of cloud faded and the moon was revealed. Slowly, the dim wisps became glows of white that were soon readable to Avalain's eyes.

"It reads, 'The door of Durin, lord of Moria. Speak friend and enter,'" proclaimed Gandalf. Avalain smiled; she remembered the day when she had helped to place this protective charm over the doors. Unfortunately, she allowed the Dwarves to erase her knowledge of the password after placing the charm so she would not spill Dwarvish secrets to Elves.

"What does that mean?" asked Merry.

Smiling pleasantly, replied Gandalf, "Oh, it's quite simple. You speak the password and the doors will open." Raising his staff, the wizard began speaking deeply in Elvish, his hands extended towards the doors. When he was done, however, nothing happened.

Again, Gandalf tried and failed to open the doors. Avalain wondered if he had forgotten the password just as she and the masters of the Dwarvish halls all eventually had.

"Nothing's happening," stated Pippin obviously.

Ignoring him, muttered Gandalf to himself, "I once knew every spell in the tongues of Men, Elves, and Orcs."

Exclaimed Pippin, "What are you going to do, then?"

"Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them, then at least I will be allowed a little peace from foolish questions—I will try to find the opening words," sighed Gandalf, quickly regaining control of himself. Suddenly, however, he perked up. "Avalain!" he called, looking at her. "You placed this charm on the door, did you not?"

"I did," responded Avalain. Before anyone could gasp and smile in relief, however, she added, "Sadly, the Dwarves wiped the door's password from my memory. They were afraid that I would tell my father these Dwarvish secrets."

Gandalf sighed. "Well, there's nothing left for it then, but to continue guessing." And so he returned to shouting passwords in Elvish at the door to Moria.

Time began to pass, and Avalain spent it talking quietly to Legolas. They each agreed the place should not be disturbed… "We have no business being here," mumbled Legolas, glancing at the doors apprehensively. "Gandalf wished to avoid this place for a reason. There is something here that lingers with darkness."

"I agree with your concerns," whispered Avalain in return. "But we do not have another choice. The Gap of Rohan is being watched, as is Caradhras now. Saruman's devilish craft is preventing a great number of our routes from being operative, Legolas, and this is one of the few that are not."

"For all we know," replied he darkly.

"For all we know," agreed Avalain with a sigh.

A sudden splash reached their ears. Startled, Avalain jumped somewhat. Legolas automatically grabbed her arms to both reassure her and prevent her fall. Glancing around wildly, Avalain sighed and relaxed upon seeing that Merry and Pippin were simply spelunking rocks over the surface of the lake… but something did not seem quite right…

Before she could do anything, however, Aragorn lunged forward and stopped Pippin from tossing another rock. Said Aragorn quietly, "Do not disturb the water."

Just to her right, Gandalf grumbled, "Oh, it's useless." The wizard dropped his staff among the rocks. Avalain prepared to go and inspect her writing upon the doors herself, but Frodo got to it first.

"It's a riddle," he said with realization.

Another sound entered Avalain's ears—the sound of stirring water. Her head swerved to the lake, and she saw a strange movement across its surface.

"Speak 'friend…' and enter," Frodo pieced together.

Avalain's attention was divided between the hobbit and the creature living in the lake. She tightly grasped her bow and her other hand seized an arrow.

"What's the Elvish word for friend?" Frodo asked the wizard.

Gandalf paused and then said, "_Mellon._"

The sound of grinding stone entered everyone's ears, and those who had been dozing off awoke to find the doors of Moria open. Most—especially Gimli—were pleased with what was accomplished, but Avalain and Legolas only exchanged grim looks before following the wizard and the hobbit inside the tunnel of darkness.

Strangely, the halls of Moria were not lit with torches. It was nearly silent except for Gimli's exclamations to Legolas of, "Soon, Master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves! Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone! This, my friend, is the home of my cousin Balin. And they call it a mine. A mine!"

But as Gimli spoke, Boromir and Avalain noticed something the others had not. The mine had no one inside it… except for those who had been long since slain.

"This is no mine," said Boromir. "It's a tomb."

The hobbits all gasped. Legolas and Avalain drew close to each other and withdrew their bows. Boromir and Aragorn whipped out their swords and glared into the darkness as Gandalf raised his staff a little higher.

As they glared into the tunnel ahead, Avalain saw Legolas bend down to one of the Dwarves' corpses. He pulled an arrow out of its skull and studied the craftsmanship—"Goblins!" he spat, throwing it back down.

"We make for the Gap of Rohan. We should never have come here," announced Boromir, drawing back towards the exit.

"Get out of here—get out!" ushered Aragorn. Avalain turned to face the hobbits to guide them outside… but Frodo was being dragged back towards the lake; a strange tentacle enwrapped his foot.

Drawing her spare dagger from her corset, Avalain took careful aim and threw it at the tentacle. There was a screech from the creature as it released Frodo; Avalain rushed to upright him.

But before she could reach him, a dozen more tentacles shot out from the lake, pushing the princess and the other three hobbits out of the way before grabbing Frodo once again.

"Aragorn! Avalain!" shouted Frodo as he was dragged into the air. Here, Aragorn and the others noticed the peril of the hobbits, and they followed Avalain towards the lake.

The creature that had captured Frodo finally emerged from its sanctuary—it was a tremendous squid with sharp teeth and dozens of tentacles. Avalain gasped and brought out her sword, for arrows would do nothing. She then joined Aragorn and Boromir in slicing the tentacles, frantically attempting to free the hobbit.

Each time a sword made contact with the flesh of the squid, it roared in anger and drew Frodo closer to its mouth. Avalain's eyes followed Frodo downward to find which tentacle held him captive—she dodged two arms and a set of snapping teeth before yelling in outrage and slicing through the correct arm.

Frodo plummeted into her arms, but Avalain had problems of her own. The monster now had _**her **_ensnared, and the Elven princess had no other choice except to throw Frodo to Aragorn and scream, "Go! I'll get out of this!"

"Avalain!" protested the hobbit.

More of the squid's slimy arms wrapped around her—it ceased attacking the hobbit, seeing as Avalain was closer. She could do nothing as the squid enveloped her in its squishy flesh; Avalain could hear Boromir, Legolas, and Aragorn yelling in remonstration. She gasped for breath as one tightened over her throat.

Like Frodo, she was lifted into the air towards the creature. Still twisting and writhing, Avalain was unable to breathe. Dots tainted her perfect vision.

Suddenly, she found herself in a pair of arms. It was only when she heard, "Avalain, are you all right?" that she knew it was Legolas who caught her.

"Fine," she gasped. "Run!"

With her hand tightly grasping his, she pulled him into Moria. The squid began crawling on land, not willing to let his meal escape so easily. Its tentacles pulled at the rocks overhead to aid its wriggling on the ground, but the rocks were old.

Chunks of the mountainside began to fall upon the Fellowship as they fled inside the walls of Moria. Avalain cried out as one grazed her arm and side—she felt a spurt of blood.

As another boulder crashed towards them, Legolas saw that there was only one way to escape the rocks—he pushed Avalain to the ground and rolled them out of the way, hoping to evade the range of falling stones.

Complete darkness enveloped the mines, seeing as their only source of light had been the moon. But then, out of the blackness, Avalain heard, "We now have but one choice." A burst of light filled the entrance hall, rendering everyone dizzy. "We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard—there are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places of the world. Quietly now, it's a four day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may yet go unnoticed."

At last, the Fellowship recuperated from the white light of the wizard's staff. When she was finally able to see, Avalain found herself looking up at Legolas.

"Well, where have I seen this before?" she asked herself aloud, realizing that he had fallen on top of her. Seeing his sheepish smile, she added, "Thank you, Legolas." Then as a whisper, "Now get off."

Upon standing, Avalain could not help but sigh dramatically as she saw the hostile glares between Boromir and Legolas. Resisting the urge to do something as childish as rolling her eyes, she walked towards Frodo and asked, "Are you all right, Frodo?"

He nodded, his eyes falling to her side. "Avalain, you are injured," he mumbled.

Avalain noticed that her side was continuing to bleed profusely. "So I am," she said with ease. "Hmm." Giving Frodo and the other hobbits a smile, the Elven princess began to walk after the wizard, who had not stopped to wait for the rest of the Fellowship. Admiringly noting her strong resolution, the hobbits quickly trotted after her.


	9. Chapter 9

As she followed Gandalf into the darkness, Avalain could infer from Moria's dilapidated state that the goblins had succeeded in seizing the mines perhaps fifty years earlier. She somberly took in the changes that had occurred since last she'd visited Moria.

Walking along unsteady ledges, Avalain grew dizzy when she accidentally looked down. She'd almost tripped, but Sam prevented her from falling. A moment later, the princess was able to repay the favor when a chunk of gray slab crumpled under his foot.

It was here that Gandalf finally spoke once more. During the second of the four day journey, he said, "The wealth in Moria is not of gold, or jewels… but mithril." To emphasize his point, Gandalf raised his staff and allowed a little more light to shine.

A sight that Avalain had seen only once awaited her. She gasped in amazement as slivers of silver and gold glinted out at the Fellowship from the rocks below. The light of Gandalf's staff brought out the hidden brilliance of the mithril as it lay, undisturbed, inside the rocks. Then the wizard continued, "Bilbo had a shirt of mithril rings that Thorin gave him."

"Oh!" gasped Gimli. "That was a kingly gift!"

"Yes!" agreed Gandalf wholeheartedly. "I never told him, but its worth was greater than the value of the Shire."

Avalain was saddened at the mention of Thorin's Company. Gandalf saw her somber expression and murmured, "I am sure that he is in Valinor."

"Who is in Valinor?" asked Merry, confused.

"A friend of mine," answered the She-Elf. "He set out to reclaim his people's homeland sixty years ago… and perished in doing so. He was the heir of that Kingdom…"

"You mean Fili?" questioned Gimli.

Avalain jumped and looked at him. But before she could speak, Legolas did, "Hah," he muttered sourly. "He was a friend of yours, all right."

Now she frowned. "Yes, he was. Be silent, Legolas. Tease me not about my friendship with the Dwarf."

"It was a bit more than a friendship, mind," he retorted. Though he was smirking the way he always did when he teased her, there was a bit of bitterness in his eyes.

Boromir looked shocked. "You and a _**Dwarf—**_"

Sobbed Avalain, "Oh, Boromir, it was sixty years ago, and it matters not now, because he is was only a friend of mine in the end, though he was a good one. I beg you, say nothing more." With that, she moved ahead of the wizard and refused to let anyone walk beside her except the hobbits.

Upon reaching the end of the treacherous ledges, there were perfidious steps that needed to be climbed. They were more steep than lengthy, and none were glad to find this next obstacle. As Gandalf began climbing the steps, Legolas approached Avalain.

"I am sorry for upsetting you, my dear Avalain," murmured he. "I don't know what came over me."

She knew it was not worth an argument. And so she smiled and replied, "There is no harm done. It was all in the past." But then, she smirked mockingly in Legolas's direction.

He raised an eyebrow, but a grin broke out over his face upon seeing her gesture to the stairs and hearing her whispered taunt of, "I bet I'm faster than you." Avalain didn't turn to see his face at her challenge; she immediately proceeded in scrambling up the steps.

Legolas smiled and retorted quietly, "Why present a challenge if you don't participate fairly?"

"Because this way it's more fun. Well, for _**me.**_"

The two Elves continued making their way up the steps—before long, Avalain had passed Gandalf and was looking back for Legolas. She did not see him below her and was confused… someone to her right cleared his throat.

She gasped when she saw Legolas grinning at her. "You were saying?" he asked, continuing his climb.

Avalain exclaimed quietly and redoubled her efforts. In the end, the Elven princess finally leveled out with Legolas before managing to pull ahead of him.

As her friend grabbed onto the top of the steps, Avalain laughed softly and helped him up. "I won, I believe. That was for beating me with our duel."

Legolas scoffed; together they sat and waited for the others. After a while, they noticed the wizard approaching, and they rose to help the others.

After everyone was accounted for, Gandalf trudged towards three doors that Avalain had seen upon rising from the steps. She waited respectfully for him to walk down the correct path, but he had stopped.

He glanced at each one of the doors before turning back to face the Fellowship. His eyes found Avalain, and realization dawned upon her when she observed the look in his eyes. Knowing what the question would be, Avalain shook her head sadly.

Forced to tell the remaining Fellowship members the truth, said Gandalf, "I have no memory of this place."

Seeing that there was not much else to do except wait and hope the wizard would recollect which pathway was which, the Fellowship settled down. Avalain rested alongside a sleeping Sam. With her arm around the shoulder of the hobbit, she drifted into a light doze.

A couple hours passed. Gandalf continued focusing on the doorways while Avalain and the hobbits slept, grateful for the chance. Once they awoke, they found nothing had changed. But everyone was becoming restless, knowing they might have gotten lost in the mines.

Avalain could not, however, keep a smile off her face as she heard Merry and Pippin whispering amongst themselves. "Are we lost?" asked Pippin.

"No," replied Merry.

"I think we are," announced Pippin.

"Shh. Gandalf's thinking."

"Merry?"

"_**What?**_"

"I'm hungry."

Smiling at her endearing friend, Avalain withdrew an apple from the knapsack she carried. Calling Pippin's name, she threw it towards him. Though he was caught by surprise, the hobbit caught it in his hands.

"I see you're getting better at catching apples," murmured Avalain with a smile. Then she tossed Merry an apple as well.

With thanks, the hobbits began to eat. Avalain turned to Frodo to ask if he too cared for an apple, but he had suddenly darted to the edge of the cliff beside the Fellowship. Concerned about the sudden jolt, the Elven princess watched carefully as he scampered to where Gandalf was sitting… Avalain heard Frodo whisper to him, "There's something down there!"

Replied Gandalf softly, "It's Gollum. He's been following us for three days."

"He escaped the dungeons of Barad-dûr?" asked Frodo.

"Escaped…" said Gandalf darkly, "or was set loose."

Avalain ceased listening. She did not wish to fill her mind with dark thoughts… she tried to think back a hundred and fifty years, when last she had visited Moria.

Balin had proudly shown her the city after it was reclaimed… it was the first time she had met him, long before he arrived in Rivendell with Thorin Oakenshield's Company. He had brought her down through the tunnels, though of course back then they were much more majestic. He had brought her to the steps they'd just climbed… and…

She scowled. When she needed them most, the memories would not come.

Boromir saw her frown and asked, "What ails you, Avalain?" He glanced at her side; his eyes widened. "You should really do something about that…"

Avalain was confused until he pointed at her wound. Glancing down at her side, she sighed. "I probably should, shouldn't I…?" Seeing that Sam was awake, Avalain removed her arm and rose—a gush of blood fell from the cut on her side.

"Perhaps I should've done something about it sooner," she mused, poking it.

"Well, don't do _**that!**_" exclaimed her friend. Though he was shaking his head, a small smile was upon his face.

With amusement, asked Avalain, "Well, what would you have me do? I'm not going to press my hand to my side until it ceases bleeding—what if I require my weapons?"

"You tie something around it, of course," explained Boromir as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Like a piece of cloth."

Seeing the reason with this statement, Avalain bent down—more blood escaped her wound—and found her spare cloak. She was just about to rip off its hem, but then the sound of tearing fabric reached her ears.

She turned to see Aragorn tearing off the hem of his own. Avalain gave him a puzzled look. He shrugged and said, "I don't need it." With that, he came to her and tied the cloth around her waist, covering the ugly wound.

Rising, Aragorn looked into Avalain's amber eyes—he didn't even look at either Boromir or Legolas before saying, "No sirs, it is myturn to support my_** sister**_."

Avalain laughed before she could tell herself it was a bad idea. Aragorn grinned complacently and walked away; she continued laughing as she watched Boromir and Legolas. Their expressions made her laugh all the harder—they seemed apprehensive at Aragorn's brotherly protectiveness.

Once she was over her fit, the Elven princess found herself sitting beside Sam, who was pleasantly puzzled as if wondering why Avalain was laughing.

All of a sudden, everyone heard Gandalf exclaim, "Ah! It's that way!"

"He's remembered!" said Merry, shooting up from his spot on the ground.

"No," said Gandalf, "but the air doesn't smell so foul down here. If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose."

Avalain broke into another bout of laughter at Merry's expression. She was the first to follow the wizard down the tunnel. Soon after, the rest of the Fellowship followed.

Darkness was still around them, compacted tightly. But finally, the staircase expanded into a roomy space… if Avalain remembered correctly, then this was—

"Let me risk a little more light," murmured Gandalf, raising his staff.

Everyone's eyes widened as the scene in front of them was revealed. They were standing at the entrance of a majestic hall with intricately crafted columns standing identically to one another at exact distances. The space opened for miles—the craftsmanship of the halls was magnificent even after hundreds of years.

"Behold! The great realm and Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf," said Gandalf.

"Now there's an eye-opener, and no mistake," murmured Sam. Avalain smiled and looked at the others as they inspected the place with shock and bewilderment.

After another moment, the Fellowship began to walk forward, each of them admiring the work of the Dwarves. Everyone thought about the time and effort that must have been spent to create such a sight… Avalain's thoughts were disrupted just before reaching the opposite end of Dwarrowdelf's foyer.

It had been Gimli to bring her to reality. He had seen a doorway leading into another room that contained a stone coffin with a light shining upon it.

"Gimli!" exclaimed Gandalf, but the Dwarf would not be stopped. The rest of the Fellowship ran after him.

Upon entering, Avalain could see that the coffin had Dwarvish writing on it… though she could not read it, a heart-wrenching theory ripped through her.

Though the Elven princess drew no further, the wizard walked past her towards the resting place. He dusted the portion of the coffin with the engraved writing and read aloud: "'Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria.' He is dead, then. It's as I feared."

A dull _clunk _sounded as Gimli's battle helmet made contact with the stone.

Avalain was saddened at the news of Balin's death… He had been a great friend of hers; their relationship was one that lasted more than one hundred years… A few tears filled her eyes. She recalled when last she had seen him—forty years past, he'd come to visit her in Rivendell… She remembered how they laughed when they recalled Thorin Oakenshield's Company passing through that very city…

She watched sadly as Gandalf gave Pippin his hat and staff. The wizard then retrieved a dusty tome from the arms of one of the deceased.

But she recognized that tome. It was Ori's—a heartbroken gasp escaped her. As if losing Balin was not enough… she had positively adored Ori when he had passed through her city…

Beside her, Legolas whispered, "We must move on. We cannot linger."

"'They have taken the bridge and the second hall. We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long,'" read Gandalf. He turned the page to the faded writing on the yellow parchment. "'The ground shakes. Drums… drums in the deep. We cannot get out. A Shadow moves in the dark…'" Again he turned the page. "'We cannot get out. They are coming.'"

Avalain's eyes swept over the Fellowship—she gasped. Pippin's curiosity got the better of him, and he gently prodded one of the arrows stuck inside a Dwarf's deceased body.

Her warning was too late for Pippin to hear—as he touched the shaft of the arrow, the head of the corpse fell off the body and into the well it was sitting on. Thunderous echoes of the fall ricocheted off of the stone walls of the well and rebounded throughout the mines. The Fellowship whirled to face the noise.

Pippin could not move for shock, and that only turned greater when the rest of the body tumbled down the well after the head. The clanging grew louder… as if _**that **_wasn't enough, tied to the leg of the corpse was a metal chain with a bucket attached to the end of it. Thataddition caused for the greatest racket yet, and deafening clunks and clangs sounded from the fall of the metal bucket.

No one dared move or even breathe. Each waited warily for some sort of sign that would signal the arrival of the goblins or Orcs, but there was none…

As one, Boromir and Avalain sighed in relief.

Gandalf, however, was not so pleased.

Snatching his hat and staff back from the poor inquisitive hobbit, he snarled, "Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!"

He turned away from Pippin and marched forward; but suddenly he stopped. Gandalf had heard something, and though the rest of the Fellowship didn't quite hear it at first, the sound reverberated through the bottom of the well and up to where they were standing.

It was the pounding of a large drum… and it was soon followed by many others.

The hobbits perused the room nervously, but Sam's eyes rested on a blue light. He then discovered what it was. Frodo's sword was glowing blue. "Frodo!" he cried.

Screeches echoed around the mines. Legolas faced the door. "Orcs!"

Boromir rushed to the door they had entered—it was already flimsy. He withdrew from the room slightly to check the corridors, but he was forced to lunge back as two arrows embedded themselves in the wood, narrowly missing his head.

Aragorn, Avalain, and Legolas rushed forward to help him bar the doors. She glanced at Boromir and heard him mutter, "They have a cave troll…"

With that, Legolas and Avalain began throwing axes from fallen Dwarves to help Aragorn and Boromir bar the doors. Though they knew the defense wouldn't last long, it would give them time to regroup and prepare for the ugly onslaught that was about to come.

"Keep back! Stay close to Gandalf!" Aragorn instructed the hobbits as they continued barring the doors. Avalain retreated to the coffin and heard Gimli roar, "Let them come! There is still one Dwarf in Moria who still draws breath!"

Avalain, Legolas, and Aragorn all withdrew their bows, arming themselves calmly for the beasts that were to arrive. There came a large _THUMP _as Orcs barged against the doors. Small chinks in the wood appeared; they were just large enough for an arrow.

When Legolas could see the tip of a crossbow, he let loose his first arrow. A shriek sounded in response, and Aragorn was the next to allow his weapon to fly. Another shriek—it was Avalain then to release her deadly projectile.

The doors broke open; dozens of Orcs flooded into the room. The three with bows and arrows continued firing until the beasts were upon them, and then Aragorn and Avalain withdrew their swords. Boromir was already in the middle of an onslaught, and Gimli, of course, was in the thick of things, swinging his axe everywhere.

Avalain heard the cries of the hobbits as they too charged the enemy, their swords in the air. Gandalf followed them into combat, swinging his staff and sword and downing a great many Orcs in a short period of time.

For a while this continued, but the ground began to shake as something big drew near. Avalain gasped as a cave troll burst into the room, tall and looming above them.

She could do nothing as it charged Sam, but the hobbit seemed to know what to do. He yelled in protest and, as the troll lifted its club, dove under its legs. Confused, the troll bellowed in outrage as it realized it had been tricked. Before it could squish Sam, Aragorn and Boromir managed to distract it.

Avalain was too far away to help—everywhere she turned there was an ugly face. Her sword swung through the air, beheading or dismembering a foul creature with each stroke. Deafening screams were all about her, and for a moment she was almost overwhelmed… upon seeing that Boromir had been knocked aside by the troll's club, however, a fire of hatred spurred Avalain to gradually terminate the rain of monsters.

Seeing that Aragorn had drawn the attention of the troll, she rushed to Gimli, who faced a dozen Orcs on his own. With an angry cry, she sprang towards them, withdrawing one of the daggers from her corset. Avalain proceeded to battle with a sword in one hand, the dagger in the other. Within a minute, she and Gimli stood alone with a respectable pile of dead Orcs about them. Nodding at one another, they dispersed.

Avalain rushed off to aid Merry and Pippin as Gimli drew the attention of the cave troll. As the Dwarf hastened to escape the eyes of the beast, he jumped off the coffin he had been standing on—the club of the troll cracked the stone. Seeing he'd missed his target, the troll raised his weapon again, swinging it around and hitting three Orcs instead of Gimli.

Just as Gimli lay undefended on the ground, however, Legolas—who had climbed onto the ceiling rafters—shot an arrow at the back of the troll's head. The monster whirled around, using its chain as a whip to slash at Legolas. He dodged it twice—on the troll's third attempt, the Elf held the chain taut with his foot and climbed across it onto the troll's shoulders. There, he shot an arrow into the top of its skull.

After commanding three of the four hobbits to hide behind columns, Avalain traveled to Sam, who had not been near enough to hear her words. She found with alarm that he had dropped his sword… yet he was somehow doing well despite the fact that he was fighting Orcs with a frying pan.

Avalain and Sam fought back to back, Avalain's smooth voice distorted by malice as she tried to push the creatures back. As she sliced off arms, legs, and heads, Samwise continued knocking the monsters in the head with his frying pan, causing a dull _clang! clang! clang! _to sound throughout the room.

When the avalanche of monsters began lessening, Sam shouted to Avalain, "I think I'm getting the hang of this!" _CLANG!_

The Elven princess couldn't help but laugh at his discovery. Seeing that there were no more Orcs around him, she left Sam to help Aragorn, who was struggling to fend off fifteen banes. As she sprinted his direction, she decapitated an Orc about to strike at Gandalf's back.

But her swift presence disturbed the troll—it turned away from Boromir and glared at Avalain, who was a green blur, as she ran to Aragorn. Just as she was about to reach him, she heard Boromir scream, "_**Avalain!**_"

She realized too late what was happening—the troll's club caught her in the chest, and she flew through the air. Her back hit the wall with a sickening _crunch_. She did not get up.

The Fellowship stared at her. Avalain's limp form filled their eyes and mind, and with renewed force they continued to strike. Anger and desperation filled their voices as they stared at the princess's body.

For a couple minutes Avalain lay, the wind completely knocked out of her. But she still heard the sounds of battle. With great effort, she pushed herself up from the ground. Her sword in her hand, the princess rose and stumbled back to the battleground, charging the Orcs that had their backs to her.

With a furious cry, Avalain stuck her sword through two Orcs at once. She raced around the battlefield as swiftly as she could and picked off as many beasts as possible.

Her friends were thankful to see her alive. As the Orcs faced the other nine of the Fellowship, Avalain was given the opportunity to meet Legolas's eyes. He looked positively relieved. She then glanced at Aragorn and Boromir, both of whom looked the exact same way.

Aragorn leapt over a pile of dead Orcs to reach the princess. He pleaded for her to sit down, but Avalain wouldn't hear of it.

"I'd rather be handicapped on the battlefield than sitting without a purpose. Please let me continue fighting, Aragorn. I'm quite all right."

Hearing this, he had no choice but to allow her to fight… luckily, his comrades had already downed all except the cave troll.

Just then, a tremendous roar shook the whole cavern. Avalain gasped and faced the columns—her heart sank as she realized it was the column she told Frodo, Merry and Pippin to hide behind. Without heeding the warnings of the others, she darted towards the troll and stuck her sword in its spine.

The cave troll roared and faced her, a look of hatred locked on its face. Avalain could see Frodo in its grasp—upon meeting his blue eyes, she gasped and screamed hopelessly, "Frodo!"

Using her distraction to its advantage, the troll swatted her aside again, but this time she was not hit into a wall. Gandalf was there to catch Avalain and set her back upon her feet. With a look of genuine concern, he asked, "Are you all right?"

The princess nodded and cried desperately, "Frodo!" But when she looked back, things were worse than before.

Aragorn had managed to free Frodo from the troll's grasp, but as he turned back to face the hobbits, the troll slammed Aragorn into the wall. Avalain screamed as his eyes closed, his face deathly pale.

Frodo scrambled to Aragorn and shouted his name, shaking him to get him awake. Yet try as he might, Aragorn did not open his eyes. The troll raised a huge steel javelin and aimed it right at Frodo—"Duck!" screeched Avalain, panic overtaking her voice so that it did not sound remotely lovely.

The hobbit did as she commanded and ducked. The beast was not satisfied; it grabbed Frodo once more and threw him against the wall—Avalain was only twenty feet away from the hobbit when the troll grabbed the javelin from the wall and impaled Frodo with it.

Frodo's eyes widened, his face as deathly pale as Aragorn's. Avalain doubled over. She fell to her knees as she stared at him, her beautiful amber eyes widened, her mouth open in pain and shock.

Grabbing a sword from a fallen Orc, she screamed as loudly as she could and leaped up the troll's arm. Standing on the troll's shoulders as Legolas had done earlier, she sliced the troll across the neck—its skin was thick, however, and though the troll reared and let go of the javelin that dug through Frodo's stomach, it did not die.

Avalain was thrown off the troll and into the wall once more, but instead of falling to the ground, she landed in Boromir's arms. She barely heard him shout her name. Her vision was tainted with red.

Legolas approached the cave troll, absolute loathing filling his expression so that his normally beautiful features were completely distorted. As Merry and Pippin leapt onto the troll's back, stabbing it with their small swords, the beast lunged back. The Elf used this chance to shoot an arrow straight through its throat.

The troll stopped short, one of its ginormous, meaty hands lightly feeling the arrow. It stumbled around, throwing Merry off its back. He landed on his feet and was steadied by Gimli… and the troll toppled over and fell to the ground, defeated at last.

Silence took over the room—the only sound to be heard was Pippin's startled grunt as he was launched off the troll. Then everyone realized what had happened… Gandalf rushed over to Aragorn and Frodo to be sure they were alive.

Aragorn was already conscious, and he saw Frodo upon the ground.

"Oh, no," he mumbled, crawling to Frodo and turning him over… but the hobbit simply coughed. Sam practically threw himself beside Frodo, saying to the anxious wizard, "He's alive."

Gandalf was mightily comforted, his relief great as he saw Frodo look around. Noting the worry in his companions' faces, informed Frodo, "I'm all right. I'm not hurt."

With shock, exclaimed Aragorn, "You should be dead! That spear would've skewered a wild boar."

Gandalf approached them and said with a smile, "I think there's more to this hobbit than meets the eye…"

Frodo saw that the mithril shirt given to him by his uncle was visible. He lightly touched the armor and saw not a single scratch on it.

Whispered Gimli, "Mithril… you are full of surprises, Master Baggins," with a grudging admiration.

Once they arose, Frodo noticed Avalain lying limp in Boromir's grasp. With a strangled cry, he rushed towards her. Taking one of her pale hands, cried he, "What happened to her?"

Responded Boromir, "She attempted to kill the troll after it hurt you. She did an admirable job weakening it, but then it slammed her against the wall…"

Gandalf, seeing the Elven princess, pushed through those blocking his path. His gaze fell upon Avalain. True distress appeared in his eyes; he had not felt so worried for the girl since she was very young, hundreds of years before.

Extending a hand over her face, the wizard mumbled a few words. Avalain's eyes fluttered open.

The Fellowship looked at her amber eyes; she started upon seeing Frodo.

A smile breaking onto her face, whispered she, "You're alive…" Then she saw his mithril shirt. Her grin grew expectant as she scolded herself for not remembering that of course Bilbo would have given his dragon-scale shirt to his nephew for the journey!

Boromir set her back upon her feet, and she smiled thankfully to him. To Gandalf she turned next, and she only had time to issue an apology before the sounds of approaching footsteps entered their ears.

The wizard smiled warmly at her before turning to the exit. Making sure everyone heard him, exclaimed he quietly, "To the bridge of Khazad-dûm!"

Without any objections, the Fellowship followed. The sounds of high-pitched screeches drew nearer as they sprinted for the exit of Dwarrowdelf.

Though they ran as quickly as they could, the Fellowship was eventually surrounded by goblins and Orcs. All raised their weapons, but Avalain could see that it was hopeless… there were hundreds of them. Would they be able to hold them off and let Frodo escape?

Suddenly, there came a chilling roar, and an orange and yellow glow radiated from around the corner. The goblins and Orcs all saw it and screamed pitifully, scampering back to their dark sanctuaries.

This left the Fellowship alone in the darkness of Dwarrowdelf, each of them staring at the orange glow. They raised their weapons to it but knew not what it was… Gandalf's eyes had closed, and he looked defeated.

At last, asked Boromir, "What is this new devilry?"

Gandalf was silent for some moments. The same blood chilling roar echoed from the previous chamber, and at last the wizard replied, "A Balrog. A demon of the ancient world… This foe is beyond any of you. Run!"

Upon hearing the explanation, the Fellowship sprinted on. They darted through more dark corridors before arriving in a lit room. Boromir grabbed one of the torches on the walls and rushed down a few steps, but there the stairs abruptly ended. Had he continued, he would have fallen to his death.

Legolas, however, rushed forward and pulled Boromir back. The hobbits all stopped one-by-one as they saw the ended staircase, but Avalain noticed something the others did not.

Just to the right of the steps, there was a narrow ledge large enough for all to cross over. Gesturing to that pathway, ordered Avalain, "Quickly!"

Making sure the others followed, Gandalf stopped and leaned against the wall. The battle, magic, and run tired him more than he cared to admit, and though Avalain was quite concerned about him, he waved her on… But he grabbed Aragorn and spoke lowly to him.

The pathway Avalain had discovered led to another set of broken steps, yet it was nothing the Fellowship couldn't cross. Legolas was the first to jump, and he glanced back at the wizard. "Gandalf!"

The wizard leaped over the edge to safety, and Legolas then found Avalain's eyes. "Avalain, please," he called, knowing that she might very well refuse to jump until all the hobbits had crossed. So he was surprised when she nodded and leapt straight into his arms—she stumbled slightly, still weak upon her feet, but Legolas made quite sure she was balanced before letting her go.

The stairs cracked slightly at Avalain's leap, however. She gazed worriedly at the four already frail and delicate steps, praying that they would not collapse.

Boromir aided Merry and Pippin in jumping next—all three together caused those four steps to break apart. The stairs crashed onto some rocks below before falling into an endless abyss.

"Sam," said Aragorn, and the halfling allowed him to pick him up and throw him to the other side. Aragorn was about to do the same for Gimli, but the Dwarf stubbornly held out a hand and announced, "Nobody tosses a Dwarf!"

He then jumped to the other side of the steps, but he barely made it. Legolas was forced to lunge and grab his beard so the Dwarf would not topple backwards. "Not the beard!" shouted the Dwarf, but then he was hauled to safety.

At Gimli's jump, however, the stairs again broke, leaving Aragorn and Frodo on the opposite side… the steps were at least ten feet away. There was another roar from the Balrog, and the mines began to shake as the demon hit the walls. Another large chunk of rock collapsed from the ceiling and crashed through the stairs _**behind **_Aragorn and Frodo, leaving them stranded.

"Hang on!" shouted Aragorn, one hand on Frodo's shoulder. The small portion they were standing on began to topple sideways, about to fall into the abyss. But Aragorn knew to lean to the opposite side to steady the rock on its unbalanced hinge. "Lean forward!" he commanded Frodo once the chunk of staircase was finally in position.

Slowly, the stairs began to topple towards the rest of the Fellowship; the sound of grinding rocks was earsplitting.

Finally, Legolas and Sam were able to catch Aragorn and Frodo as they jumped off the rock. Once they were safe, the Fellowship continued running down the steps towards the bridge of Khazad-dûm.

At last, the bridge was within view. Avalain stopped at the front and waited for everyone to pass her before crossing—"Gandalf!" she cried as he slowed to a stop. He whirled around, and at last the Elven princess laid eyes on the reason why the wizard never wished to descend to the looming darkness of the mines in the first place.

A terrifying beast emerged from the flames that had been pursuing them; it was a scaly, black creature with horns and fierce orange eyes… when it roared, its mouth had flames within it. In its left hand it wielded a whip, and though it was not brought out just yet, Avalain knew that it would be.

"Gandalf!" screamed she, refusing to move until he did.

"Go, Avalain!" shouted he in response, beginning to follow her. She waited for him to pass her, but the wizard pushed her forward and would not give her any other choice. And so it was that Avalain proceeded first, though it was against her better judgment.

Once she was safe, she whirled around, expecting to find Gandalf just behind her. But Gandalf had stopped in the middle of the bridge and was raising his staff against the ancient demon.

"You cannot pass!" commanded the wizard.

Frodo and Avalain alike were terrified. "_**Gandalf!**_"

Glaring at the Balrog and paying no heed to their shouts, continued the wizard with impressive commandeering, "I am a servant of the secret fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. Dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udún!"

With these words, the Balrog used a dagger conjured from pure fire to slash towards Gandalf. Avalain screamed the wizard's name as everything shook and rumbled—but when she dared to look back, Gandalf still stood, having summoned a white shield to protect him. "Go back to the Shadow!"

The Balrog withdrew a second steaming sword of fire and slashed it down upon Gandalf, yet the wizard had conjured another shield of bright white. A blinding collision occurred, and after the light cleared, Gandalf was again still standing where he had been before.

Raising his sword and staff together, shouted Gandalf, "You shall not pass!" He ignored the demon as it withdrew its whip and flashed it menacingly. Instead, the wizard raised his staff and plunged it into the stone of the bridge. The sound of cracking stone entered Avalain's ears—

The portion of the bridge on which the Balrog stood began to collapse… the stone and demon alike fell into darkness.

Gandalf sighed and watched as it fell. Thinking his work was done, he turned and prepared to return to the Fellowship… but as the Balrog fell, it whipped its whip one last time. The yellow-orange coil returned to ensnare Gandalf's legs.

Frodo pushed past Legolas and Avalain as he tried to return to the bridge to help the wizard, who was grasping the ledge. Boromir grabbed the hobbit before he could fall as well, shouting, "No! No!"

"Gandalf!" cried Frodo once more, staring at the wizard's blue eyes. Avalain couldn't move for shock and despair as she watched Gandalf's expression. He had known… he had always known. Avalain's despair greatened as he said goodbye to her through his eyes.

For a moment, all was silence. And then Gandalf exclaimed, "Fly, you fools!" before releasing his hold on the ledge and plummeting to the darkness below.


	10. Chapter 10

Disbelief rooted Avalain to the spot as she watched Gandalf—her friend, her teacher, her second father—fall into the chasm below. The ringing in her ears dimmed as the realization that Gandalf was _**gone **_flooded through her mind.

Avalain crumpled to her knees. She could not move from that spot. It was only until Legolas pulled her to her feet that the princess regained feeling in her body. She allowed her numb legs to carry her forward.

Light gradually returned to the world. The surrounding darkness relinquished its hold, and Avalain found herself under the blue sky. After blankly noting that the others were safe, she stumbled and fell upon the ground, her sobs racking her body and heart.

The hobbits felt the same as she; not one was able to move for grief. Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas, and Gimli all stood in shock and despair, unable to do more than watch the other five as they curled up upon the ground. Avalain held her knees to her chest and wondered, _Why did we ever enter those murderous mines? Why did Gandalf sacrifice himself? Why wasn't it I?_

Suddenly, a voice brought Avalain from her impending darkness. "Legolas. Get them up." It was Aragorn, and though his voice was fraught with grief, his decision seemed firm.

A pair of hands rested on Avalain's arms, yet she barely registered the touch. She made no move to confirm she was comforted by it. Farther off, she heard Boromir exclaim, "Give them a moment, for pity's sake!"

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with Orcs! We must reach the woods of Lothlórien. Come Boromir… Legolas… Gimli! Get them up."

The sounds of shifting rocks informed Avalain that the others were hastening to follow orders, for Aragorn had a significant point. She could not bring herself to arise just yet, however. Her pain shook her heart; never again would Gandalf give her one of the special smiles he saved for her alone.

One of the hands on her arms moved to her chin. Avalain allowed him to lift her head; she saw Legolas gazing at her. Upon seeing her broken condition, Legolas lightly brushed the tear-streaks off her face before murmuring, "I am sorry, Avalain. I promise to help you however I can, but for now, we must rise and continue to the woods of Lothlórien."

Knowing he was right, Avalain nodded and depended on her friend to aid her in rising. Just behind her, said Aragorn, "On your feet, Sam…"

When she glanced around, Avalain saw Merry and Pippin were under the care of Boromir and Gimli. She was surprised by how little that comforted her.

Avalain had a blank expression upon her face, her eyes carefully bedridden of emotion. Her skin and lips were white. Her fists were clenched… Avalain dazedly shuffled forward as her gaze rested on Frodo, who had proceeded without waiting for anyone else.

Since her legs were longer than the hobbit's, she caught up with him quickly. It was clear they shared a plaintive longing for the wizard. They proceeded in descending the mountains together, paying no heed to Aragorn's calls.

Seeing that the hobbit and the Elf would not stop, Aragorn was forced to jog towards them and guide them safely down the mountainside. Once they were off the rocky terrain, tall green grasses awaited them. Before long, those lands passed as well, and small creeks flooded with clear water appeared. Just ahead was the entrance to the wood of Lothlórien, where the Fellowship's safety lay.

Aragorn seemed anxious to reach the woods, more so than anyone else. Though under normal circumstances Avalain would have shared in Aragorn's excitement, she was still under the wing of anguish.

Hearing the insistence of the others, Frodo and Avalain joined the remaining seven in running to the woods. The blackness of night was beginning to fall, and knowing that goblins or Orcs might pursue the Fellowship from the mountain, they hustled to reach the trees.

The sunset's rays reflected off the everlasting gold of the trees' leaves. A dim aura of peace emitted from the comforting glow, and though the events of the day still branded her mind, Avalain could not help but allow a small smile to come over her face.

That smile grew amused as she heard Gimli say, while walking rather noisily through the forest, "Stay close, young hobbits. They say a great sorceress lives in these woods. An Elf witch—all who look upon her fall under her spell… and are never seen again."

Hoping to summon a laugh for both the Dwarf and herself, said Avalain with a halfhearted smirk, "What would you do, Gimli, if I told you that the Elf witch of whom you speak just so happens to be my grandmother?"

The Dwarf stopped short and gazed, flabbergasted, at her. His expression did indeed cause for the Elven princess to smile and laugh, even if it was only a short sound of hilarity.

"I mean no harm by this, of course," added Avalain as an afterthought. "Sometimes, what you speak of is true. But I assure you that this shall not be any of our fates."

Gimli only nodded and grumbled, "Well, here's one Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox."

Suddenly, Avalain was yanked forward. With a yelp she disappeared, leaving the rest of the Fellowship wondering why she had vanished.

It seemed Avalain's disappearance was used as a distraction—while the Fellowship searched wildly for the missing princess, the Elves of Lothlórien surrounded them. Seeing that they had been outsmarted, Avalain's friends realized they had no choice except to lower their arms.

Avalain was dragged out from behind the tree she had been pulled behind, but it was not a tree that held her in his arms. It was an Elf who glared at the Fellowship.

"The Dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark," said the Elf with a satisfied smirk. Gimli growled at the Elf. "We have met Avalain Nightshade before, but none of the others here," said the Elf holding Avalain. "And we will not let any others pass until the reason you have come is stated."

He gazed at those who consisted of the Fellowship. Avalain used this opportunity to shove herself free of his grip—she finally stooped to the childish antic of rolling her eyes at the dramatics.

At the leader's command, the archers led them deeper into the woods. The Elf Captain introduced himself as Haldir as he led the nine members through the woods.

They did not speak, but there was good reason for the Fellowship to be silent. All marveled in the splendor of the golden wood, though they had not yet entered the realm of the Lady of Light. Avalain remembered that although she had only visited her grandmother's kingdom twice before, it was the heart of Elven life upon Middle-Earth and was therefore home to spectacular beauty.

As nightfall crept upon them, the trees in which the Elves took refuge were alit with soft white and silver gleams. Though the Fellowship could not yet see that heart of the wood, they anticipated the sight.

On the outskirts of the city, Haldir bade them stop to find who he held captive. As he and Avalain exchanged smiles—by this time, Avalain had forgiven him for his abrupt appearance—he turned towards the next of his kin.

In Elvish, said Haldir, "Welcome, Legolas, son of Thranduíl."

With the same dialect, said Legolas, "Our Fellowship stands in your debt."

A small upturn came over Haldir as he turned to Aragorn next and said, still in Elvish, "Ah, Aragorn of the Dúnedain. You are known to us."

Aragorn respectfully put a hand over his chest and bowed. But before anyone could say more, a scoff entered their ears. They turned to find Gimli glaring up at them, apparently not very happy.

His frustration was explained in the Common Tongue. "So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves! Speak words we can all understand."

Haldir's eyes narrowed as he replied in the Common Tongue, "We have not had dealings with the Dwarves since the Dark Days."

His temper not improved with this comment, asked Gimli gruffly, "And you know what this Dwarf says to that?" He began speaking rudely in Dwarvish dialect—Avalain and Aragorn alike could understand him, though luckily Haldir and Legolas could not. If they had been able to comprehend that dialect, the Fellowship would've found themselves in trouble indeed. For he had said, "I spit on your grave."

As it was, Avalain gasped and stared at Gimli. Aragorn grabbed Gimli's shoulder and muttered angrily, "_**That **_was not so courteous."

But Haldir was no longer interested in the short fuse of the Dwarf. He was looking around at those who still consisted of the group. His dark brown eyes swept over Boromir and three of the four hobbits… but then his gaze froze. Avalain turned to see whom he had located, and she restrained a gasp.

"You bring great evil with you," Haldir said, his eyes resting on Frodo. Though the hobbit did not quail under the intense stare of the Elf, his eyes betrayed shock as Haldir finished, "You can go no further."

Aragorn realized how dangerous the situation was becoming, and he began speaking in hushed tones to Haldir. The retort was heated, and after another moment, the new leader of the Fellowship and the leader of the guards of Lothlórien proceeded to walk somewhere they would not be overheard.

The rest of the Fellowship waited where they stood. The hobbits sat down upon the ground, fatigue overwhelming them. Seeing Frodo's expression, Avalain joined him to try and reassure him. "Do not believe this is your fault, my dear Frodo. Elves are naturally suspicious of anyone outside their own walls. I am positive that when Haldir hears of our quest he will allow us to pass."

Much to her dismay, Frodo did not seem comforted. His eyes remained glazed over, as if his mind was elsewhere. Avalain did not know what else to do and therefore remained silent.

Boromir, however, seemed to understand what was troubling Frodo. It was with concern that he said, "Gandalf's death was not in vain. Nor would he have you give up hope. You carry a heavy burden, Frodo… don't carry the weight of the dead."

The hobbit seemed grateful for his words.

At that time, Haldir and Aragorn returned to the Fellowship. "You will follow me," said Haldir.

The Fellowship rose and did as he ordered. As Haldir led them towards their destination, he stopped for a moment and moved aside to let the travelers see what he did.

The forest ahead was bedecked with delicately glowing lanterns of silver and white. Gentle purple glimmers emitted from behind the enlarged leaves of the trees. Elves would glance up at the newcomers before carrying on, their figures white gleams in the darkness. At the heart of the forest stood a magnificent palace of light so strikingly white that all had to blink before being able to register the majesty of it.

"Calas Galadhon: the heart of Elvendom on Earth. Realm of the Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, Lady of Light," explained Haldir as he too gazed upon the sight. He then gestured the Fellowship onward.

After passing many trees in which Elves lived, at last they found themselves climbing a spiral staircase that led to the entrance of the palace. As they ascended, everyone gazed over the woods of Lothlórien, vowing to remember them forever.

At last, the end of the staircase was visible, and Haldir signaled for them to remain where they were. Another minute passed before a blinding ray of light emerged from the doors of the palace… it slowly drew towards the Fellowship; Avalain knew only one in Middle-Earth with the power to bend light as such.

Once the light was ten feet away, it died to reveal the Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel. Though Avalain had seen her but sixty years beforehand, she felt as if she never had seen her before.

Avalain would never deny that she wished to look more like her sister and her grandmother. Their beauty was legendary among all Middle-Earth. With the flowing golden hair of Galadriel accompanying her sky blue eyes, it was quite easy to realize why it was so. The white dress upon her person sparkled in the lights.

Lord Celeborn began to speak. "The enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone… nine there are here, yet ten there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar."

As he spoke, Galadriel perused the eyes of the Fellowship. Upon reaching her granddaughter, a look of shock passed over her face… but then an expression of pride was revealed. In Avalain's head, she whispered, _You have accomplished much, child, but there is still so much left for you to do. Pain and fear as you have not felt before await you on this quest, yet so do love and joy. _

_ I have traveled this far, grandmother, _thought Avalain, holding contact with Galadriel. _I will not be led astray any more than I already have from my purpose here—to protect those whom I love. To face pain and fear in return for their safety is a sacrifice I am willing to make._

A shadow of a smile passed over the Lady of Light. To Lord Celeborn, she said aloud, "Gandalf the Gray did not pass the borders of this land. He has fallen into Shadow."

Even as these words escaped her mouth, Galadriel skillfully divided her attention between conversations… _I do not doubt your strength, for you are all but undefeatable. But there are other things that must be spoken… after this is over, I must speak with you. Alone._

Avalain nodded before hearing Legolas say, "He was taken by both Shadow and Flame. A Balrog of Morgoth, for we went needlessly into the net of Moria."

Again anguish flashed through Avalain's mind, but she swore to remain strong… if not for herself, then for those around her. And so she appeared impassive, as if the news of Gandalf's fall no longer affected her.

"Needless were none of the deeds in Gandalf's life. We do not yet know his full purpose… Do not let the emptiness of Khazad-dûm fill your heart, Gimli, son of Gloin. For the world has grown full of peril, and in all lands, love is now mingled with grief," said Galadriel lightly, her eyes passing over Gimli and onto the face of Boromir. Avalain attempted to uncover the words she put into his mind, for whatever they were appeared to severely unhinge him.

Asked Lord Celeborn next, "What now becomes of this Fellowship? Without Gandalf, hope is lost."

Added Galadriel, "The quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail—to the ruin of all… yet hope remains while the Company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight, you will sleep well, for these lands are well protected."

Her eyes widened suddenly, and Avalain could see her gaze had moved to Frodo. The hobbit jumped; seeing that all his comrades were beginning to follow Haldir once more, he trotted after them.

"Avalain," called Galadriel quietly. Frodo and Merry turned around upon hearing her voice and seeing their princess's face. Reassuring them with a smile, Avalain said, "Go on, dear ones," before facing her grandmother.

The Lady of Light waited for Lord Celeborn to retreat back inside the palace before gently placing a hand on Avalain's shoulder. "The words I spoke were not lies, Avalain. I am indeed proud of what you have accomplished, but more awaits you… I am afraid I cannot help you unless I speak of those things at this moment."

"I am open to your advice and warnings," replied Avalain respectfully, "and I am grateful you take the time to guide me."

A hint of a smile haunting her face, said Galadriel, "Your original purpose here was to stand by your loved ones, was it not? Aiding Frodo Baggins on his dangerous quest was second only to that. But things are not to be as unified as they were before, Avalain. I sense a threat coming over the Fellowship, and though you are strong and are able to defeat the evil of the Ring without struggle, there are others who cannot do the same."

Whispered Avalain, "You are saying that because Gandalf has… fallen… the Ring will begin to work its evil into the minds of my loved ones?"

Galadriel nodded gravely. "Not only that, but your goal shall soon be nonexistent, Avalain. You cannot protect them all at once. A pathway will be presented to you soon whether you wish for it or not, and there is no way to travel alongside all the roads at once. Though you have avoided it for this long, the beckoning of your heart shall decide your fate."

Avalain's next words were mere whispers. "I have not sought love in this life, grandmother. I wish for nothing relating to it—not yet. To love is to break another and also be broken, as I have learned the hard way… And though it has never been spoken I know it is the price of loving within this Fellowship. I cannot feel as such until this journey is at its end."

"But my child, it has already begun," replied Galadriel solemnly. "Whether you choose to embrace it or not, it is a fact. Though you turn away from it now, there shall come a day when you cannot refuse to choose your road. As the Ring works its magic, so your love works through your thoughts and mind. You reject the way the heart works this day, but I have seen you turning to face it in the very near future."

Avalain was forced to sit down, her legs weak. She knew the price of love during such a perilous adventure… especially considering those whom she traveled beside. And so she asked, "What am I to do, grandmother? I know of no way to escape myself or others around me."

"Time shall solve your problems," murmured Galadriel, glancing away from Avalain. "But though that is an addition to what I have seen, my true purpose in calling you here was to warn you that not everything in the Fellowship is as it seems. While you face the other eight that remain, all appears to be in order. But as you turn away, it falls into what it was before—the others hide disputes, hatred, and dark desires without you knowing, for they do not wish to apprehend you. Be cautious from here on out… many thing are about to break _**because **_of your loved ones."

"No!" exclaimed Avalain quietly. "I refuse to believe they would lie to me. Should things become problematic, they would inform me to the truth. It is what people who care about one another do."

But Avalain was brutally reminded of her last trip to Gondor. What Boromir and Legolas had said to one another before she had interfered—that they were more concerned for her safety and protection than her happiness… in other words, she realized with distress, they would rather lie to her than speak the truth.

"You see it now," said Galadriel. "There are secrets being kept from you. Because of this, you must always be on your guard until your path splits… then everything shall correct itself. For now, watch your heart, Avalain. I am pained when you are, and I shall do whatever I can to spare you from that. Remember to guard yourself after you leave, and think of my words afterward.

"Haldir shall lead you to your friends. Before you exit Lothlórien, I shall find you and speak of what else I have seen. As it is, there is something else that must be provided for you as you leave. Go now and rest, Avalain, for grief still tears at your heart as it now does in mine. Come the morning, light shall perhaps again enter our lives."

Avalain was speechless as Haldir came forth. Her lungs couldn't obtain enough air since she heard the news of her loved ones feeding her lies. What else had they hidden from her even _**before **_Gandalf's passing?

Thoughts as such consumed her mind, and the Elven princess hardly noticed when she was brought back to the Fellowship. Her face was pale and her fists clenched, and the others were concerned about what the Lady Galadriel had told her.

Hoping no one would approach her, Avalain sat upon the grass and allowed her mind to wander.

After an hour, however, somber voices filled the air. Broken from her trance, she listened to the songs and farewells floating through the air. As she listened, the recollection of everything that had happened that day filled her mind with another wave of agony.

"A lament to Gandalf," explained Legolas, hearing the melody as well.

"What do they say about him?" asked Merry, glancing curiously to the trees above.

For the first time since she sat down, Avalain allowed herself to move and look at those around her. They all gazed up in wonder at the voices they heard, yet only she, Legolas, and Aragorn—all whom understood the Elvish language—were affected by the mournful tunes.

"I have not the heart to tell you. For me the grief is still too near," Legolas answered. His eyes wandered to Avalain. She looked away, remembering the words of her grandmother. Though she was not certain of it, Avalain suspected he was one lying to her… About what she did not know, but the assumption felt like a fact, a known statement, would…

Sighed Sam, "I bet they don't mention his fireworks. There should be a verse about them. _'The finest rockets ever seen; they burst in stars of blue and green. Or after thunder, silver showers, came falling like a rain of flowers—'_ oh, that doesn't do them justice by a long shot." With dissatisfaction he sat back down, a look of nostalgia upon his face.

While Sam spoke his compulsive verse, Aragorn hit a snoring Gimli awake. The Dwarf glared at him malevolently; the sight brought a smile to Avalain's face for a moment.

Yet that smile faded quickly as more songs were sung overhead. Avalain could no longer keep the tears behind her eyes. Crushing her knees to her chest, the princess allowed herself to cry quietly, but her silent sobs still shook her shoulders.

A hand was placed upon her arm. She kept her head down, refusing to be drawn out from her solitude. At his gentle insistence, however, Avalain was finally ushered out to look at Frodo, who looked into her eyes.

At his attempt to withdraw her, the princess could not help but smile and retreat from her shell. A shared expression of grief could be seen between them, but neither wished to dwell in their thoughts alone. And so Avalain asked, "How did you know him, little one?"

Smiling slightly, replied Frodo, "Gandalf was always a friend of Bilbo's. From time to time he would arrive and visit, always in good spirits, always alerting the whole of the Shire to his stays. The two things that he was most known for were his fireworks and his uncanny ability to drag a Baggins into an adventure."

At this last, Avalain laughed, and the hobbit smiled hearing it. "Of course, he told me about the adventures with the dragon when I was younger and wished to hear the tale. But when time came for my _**own **_journey, he aided me beyond words. Without him, I would not be alive… neither, I suspect, would Middle-Earth as we know it."

Avalain saw the forlornness in his expression. Yet he seemed comforted to be speaking his mind, and realizing it would help Avalain as well, he asked, "How did you come to know him?"

With this, Avalain's mind was brought back to Rivendell and how it looked a thousand years past. A fleeting image of a small Elvish princess sitting beside a gray-robed wizard flew through her mind. And then she answered, "My birth caused my mother's madness… When it was clear she would not recover, my father sent her to the Gray Havens. Because I caused my mother's relocation, my family couldn't bear to look at me. But then Gandalf came to visit my father… he found me when I was only three.

"I do not know what caused the liking he had for me, but he would more often than not stay in Rivendell during that time of peace. For many long years he taught me the languages of Middle-Earth. He spoke tales and old legends that at the time, I believed to be myth. Now I know that they are not," she added with a short laugh. "For seven hundred years it was Gandalf who raised me… though soon he was forced to leave. Before he left, however, he spoke to my father and asked him to give me a chance.

"And though my father has more than made up for his thousand years of distance, whenever I think of my childhood, Gandalf is always the first to appear. Then my first friend… together, they were my life for the majority of the time I've been alive."

The hobbits watched her in fascination as she spoke. Though Avalain did not know it, all—except Gimli, who had again fallen asleep — were listening to her. Many had not known just how well she had known the wizard, and it was then they knew why she shed her tears.

Said Frodo next, "Then there is something we have in common. Gandalf was the closest thing we had to a father… for a time."

Avalain knew that Bilbo had adopted Frodo a short while after his parents' death, but what she had not known was that it was Gandalf who sheltered him before that. Smiling, she nodded and murmured, "It is indeed something we can share, then." She kissed his forehead; now that she knew she was no longer alone, Avalain was able to listen to the lament without additional tears.

Breaking the silence that reigned afterward, asked Pippin curiously, "Who was your first friend? You mentioned that…"

"I did," replied Avalain, a small smile upon her face. "Contrary to common belief, it was not my sister. No—the two people who first received my love came with us on this journey, as it so happens."

Though she did not speak his name, the hobbits all immediately turned to Legolas, who was watching her with a tranquil smile on his face. He watched as she closed her eyes and lay down upon the grass. The light blue in his own eyes gleamed with affection as he observed her peaceful state—Merry and Pippin exchanged devious grins.

"Aragorn?" asked Pippin with a facetious innocence.

Naturally, this caused for outbursts of laughter on Avalain's, Aragorn's, and Legolas's part. The hobbit grinned mischievously, his purpose accomplished—regaining her breath, laughed Avalain as he came and sat down next to her, "No, dear one! Not Aragorn—Legolas."

Still grinning, said Aragorn, "Indeed, I'm not _**that **_old," with a joking smile upon his face.

Avalain rolled her eyes and smacked him halfheartedly across the knee. Ruffling Pippin's hair tenderly, she couldn't help but laugh again at his quick-witted bantering. Then, closing her eyes peacefully, Avalain sighed and allowed herself to be lost in sleep.

A couple hours later she awoke, dreams being the reason. Avalain sat bolt upright and threw her hand over her heart, shaking from what she had just seen.

It was Gandalf's fate after his fall—he had retrieved his sword and sliced at the Balrog in midair. Yet their descent gradually led to a lake at the bottom of the abyss; the last thing Avalain had been able to see was darkness.

Quietly, she stood up. Avalain put her hands to her head. Her amber eyes were wide, and she was trembling from her frightful nightmare.

After five minutes, Avalain forced herself to take deep breaths. Before that she had been silent, which was why the only other person awake in the Fellowship had not noticed her earlier. "Why are you awake?"

Startled, Avalain jumped. She whirled around and laughed, but there was a forced lilt in her voice. "I did not know you were awake, Boromir. I am sorry. It must have been I to bring you out of your sleep."

He, however, shook his head. "I was not asleep. I shall find no rest here." He smiled halfheartedly and shrugged, leaning back against the tree he had been concealed behind.

"Why ever not?" asked Avalain curiously. As soon as the words escaped her mouth, her hand flew up to cover it. Such questions, she knew, were none of her business.

Seeing her regret, said Boromir, "It's fine, Avalain… The reason sleep is not able to find me is because of what I was told earlier this evening."

"Her words are not always true," answered Avalain hopefully, yet it was a double meaning. She did not only mean for Boromir's purpose, but her own. The words of Galadriel frightened her terribly, not because the words were intimidating in themselves, but because they might prove true.

With a wistful smile, said Boromir, "No… she was right. She spoke of my father and the fall of Gondor. Our country is weak, Avalain. There are many things I've kept from you because I have not wished to worry you. But the fact that the defeat of my country is near cannot be denied for much longer. My father is attempting to keep Minas Tirith strong, but our people lose hope. Things are not as well as they once were."

Avalain closed her eyes and sighed. She wondered if this was what her grandmother meant by those whom she loved keeping things from her… yet that answer was too simple. The Rivendell princess had always known the state of the Mortal countries was declining. No, she thought. There was something else.

"I know," she whispered. "No realm is what it once was."

"Some feel the change more than others," added Boromir. For a moment, all was silent. Avalain could not help but notice that though the songs of the Elves were over, there was still a white light burning above them.

She gazed at the light inquisitively. Without meaning to, she crooned, "I wonder what that is for…"

"That is a question we both bear in mind, then," said Boromir. Without looking back at her, asked he, "Should we go and look?"

Seeing that the rest of the Fellowship was asleep, Avalain nodded and replied, "We might as well." She and Boromir walked towards the spiral steps that would guide them to where the pale light lingered.

The light's intensity grew as they neared it. After climbing a few more steps, she and Boromir could see the light a few feet away. Intrigued by its beauty, they moved forward.

Upon arriving, Avalain gasped. There were hundreds of fireflies hovering in the air. Surrounding them were gleaming orbs radiating pure white light; the trees had leaves made of crystal, which reflected the light into the sky.

With astonishment, whispered Avalain, "Never have I seen anything like this! Surely it must be for Gandalf…"

Nearing it, the Elven princess could not help but smile as one of the fireflies flew in front of her. After capturing it in between her palms, she opened her hands to the sky to let it go… yet the little creature remained comfortably in her grasp. Smiling, she threw it up into the air only for the insect to return to its spot.

Giggling quietly, said Avalain, "Not even in my own city have I seen anything to compare with the sight before me. There is only one other picture in my mind that is anything remotely close to it."

Shaking his head, said Boromir, "No, I believe there is one thing I have seen that surpasses the beauty of the scene here."

Smiled Avalain, "That is the one other picture in my mind that is worthy of comparison… the White tower of Ecthelion. Although my visit was a while back, its image is still vivid."

"That wasn't necessarily of what I spoke."

His words didn't affect Avalain much, for she had to deal with an insect problem. Seeing the contentment of one of their companions, the fireflies surrounded her, blazing her with light. Laughing, cried she, "No, silly ones. Return to your spot. There your beauty can be admired by all."

With a laugh himself, said Boromir, "I believe they have taken a liking to you. Just like everyone else has."

Left with no choice except to let the fireflies swarm her, replied Avalain, "I suppose." She turned to face him, and though she did not know it, her smile caused him to stop short.

Of course Avalain could not see herself when she smiled. But when Boromir looked upon her, he saw the soft shadows upon her face from the fireflies' light, making her features even more pronounced. Her dark hair shimmered in the light, and the stars that lived within her amber eyes were brighter than ever. And, what with the light shining over her pale lips and skin, if anyone Avalain did not know looked upon her, they would've assumed her to be a goddess of the stars.

Seeing his sudden pause, asked Avalain with concern, "What's wrong?"

For a second there was no response… and then Boromir shook his head and cleared his mind. "Nothing."

"You look pale," murmured the Elven princess. Finally and firmly releasing the fireflies surrounding her to the skies, she stepped towards him and added, "Do not hide things from me, Boromir." She put a hand against his forehead and smiled sadly. "No wonder… you're burning up."

With a rueful smile, he shook his head and responded, "I'm fine, Avalain."

But Avalain saw the flash of a lie in his eyes.

"Please do not lie to me any longer," whispered she, shying from his gaze. "All of you do, I know it. When my back is turned, you all glare at one another. But should I turn to face you, you act like nothing is wrong. There is not one in the Fellowship who does not participate in this… and what I ask of you now is not hard. Please tell me the truth from now on?" Her last was a pleading question, and it was because of the innocence in her amber eyes that Boromir sighed and nodded.

Said Avalain quietly, "Now tell me. What's wrong?"

"Truly nothing. There is nothing _**wrong, **_at any rate."

"Then what is right?" asked Avalain, her eyes flashing with amusement. Seeing this, a small smile came over her friend's face as he answered with silence. But at her insistence, replied he, "Everything."

"Everything now, or everything in the world?"

"Whichever one you pick."

With a laugh, Avalain said, "I daresay that the world may not be in good shape, but I can draw comfort from this moment. I'm glad we decided to look at the light here… it has given me a warmth I have not felt for a while."

Glancing back at the fireflies shining their lights, a sigh escaped Avalain's lips. She could not turn away from the sight that held her there, not even when she heard, "What is the best part about it?"

"About this?" questioned Avalain, gesturing to the lights. Seeing his nod, replied she, "The best part about it is… having someone share it with me."

Taking her face gently in his hands, murmured Boromir, "There are so many stars in your eyes…" almost to himself. His reply was another smile, yet nothing to indicate what she thought. She blinked once and turned away from the lights, focusing on his face instead. Closing her eyes, the next thing Avalain knew was that she was leaning into him, her arms wrapped around his neck. She felt his lips press against hers, and she couldn't help but respond to the kiss; his hands barely brushed the side of her face. They reached her waist and held her to him, but Avalain's mind was on the love she'd always resisted before.

Releasing all her previous fears, she melted into his arms and allowed herself to forget the worries she carried. Her fingertips lightly brushed his cheek, and Avalain felt Boromir draw her closer to him. For a minute Avalain lost herself in the love she'd so long suppressed—she gazed into his eyes and, smiling gently, placed her head upon his shoulder. "I'm glad you're with me."

"As I am glad to be here with you."

The fireflies' light shone slightly brighter.


	11. Chapter 11

The Fellowship spent a while in Lothlórien recovering and preparing for the journey. Though the increase in joy and optimism was obvious between Avalain and the others, Frodo was still somber and quiet. Many times the princess attempted to get him to talk to her, but he would say nothing except, "Don't worry about me, Avalain. I'm fine."

At last, it was the final day of their stay in the Elvish woods. It was a bittersweet day for the Fellowship, who had enjoyed the beauty of Lothlórien. Avalain had been reunited with a few of her friends from childhood; she introduced them to the others. Because of her numerous connections, the Fellowship had been accepted as part of the community.

Neither Avalain nor Boromir spoke of the night of lights after it was over. Though they spent more time together, there was nothing to suggest they would follow up with the kiss they shared. Not to mention that Avalain would feel a sharp stab of guilt whenever Legolas would look at her—though it was clear he did not know anything about it, his looks of genuine affection both warmed and stabbed at her heart.

That had just happened to Avalain… Legolas had smiled at her and said quietly, "Do not despair, Avalain. I know that one day we are to return to this place." The look in his eyes shattered the princess's heart.

After walking to the riverbed, the Fellowship was halted by some of the guards that had ten days before been pointing arrows at them. Now, however, they wore smiles upon their faces as olive-green cloaks were draped over their shoulders. The cloaks were fastened with Elven brooches of shining green leaves… The leaves of Lórien, thought Avalain with wonder.

Her shock was well-deserved. Said Haldir with a smile, "Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our people. May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes." With that, the Elf led the Fellowship to where three boats of white wood floated on the riverbank.

More Elves arrived, bearing parcels of food and well-wishes for the Fellowship upon their departure. More than once Avalain embraced a friend she had known or met. She received a small knapsack of water canteens and bread—she thanked the Elf heartily and returned to the waterside.

"Look!" exclaimed she to Legolas, who was loading one of the boats. He stopped what he was doing to see what she gestured to—seeing it, his eyes widened and he too was surprised by the gift.

Seeing Merry and Pippin arch their necks to look at what lay within the bag, explained Legolas, "Lembas… Elvish way-bread. One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man." With that, Avalain handed a piece to him. She felt yet another stab of fault as she saw the warm gaze that was returned.

At last, the Fellowship was ready to leave. Yet one-by-one they were called to speak with the Lady Galadriel before their departure… when it was Avalain's turn to be summoned, she walked towards her grandmother with her head held high.

Galadriel tenderly brushed a stray lock of dark hair behind her granddaughter's ear. With a sad twinkle in her eye, she murmured, "I see my predictions were not far off at all. Your heart is battling a war… All you can do is let it solve the conflict itself. So long as you allow your love to travel along its own path, you will never regret your decision. Do not force your love, no matter what sort of pain it may bring you. After all, this is a test. And I know that you shall pass, for you are strong and adored by all."

Avalain bowed to Galadriel. "Thank you, grandmother, for your words the first night and now. Though at first I was upset and grieved, I find now that they have provided comfort I was not given beforehand. I am grateful… yet I have one last question to ask you."

The Lady of Light nodded, allowing the question. Asked Avalain, "What is my destiny with this company? Is there any way that, even if the path splits, I shall be able to provide aid to the others on separate roads?"

Galadriel smiled knowingly and withdrew a glowing diamond. With a wave of her hand, the gem was strung from an unbreakable wire and placed in Avalain's hand.

"This shall be a gift for one in the Fellowship. It may not be given today or tomorrow, yet when the time comes, you shall know who to bestow it to. This jewel has the power to call upon you once; the time span of that visit shall be determined by how much energy is stored inside the gem. At this time, your presence would be for ten minutes, yet that time may swiftly increase. Be sure to tell the receiver that the enchantment works only once, so he should only call upon you in dire need." Galadriel gently closed Avalain's fingers over the gem. Then, with a smile of pride, added she, "Yet there is also another gift I must bear to _**you.**_"

From inside the pocket of her white dress, the Lady of Light revealed another chain, this one of silver. Her hand was closed over the jewel of the necklace. When it was removed, Avalain gasped.

A beautiful white diamond was revealed, sparkling with the light of a star. Though it vaguely resembled the necklace of her sister—now given to Aragorn—it was different. Swirls made of thin and strong silver wire entwined the centerpiece, and bright sparkles stood out in the white diamond… the princess quickly understood that the jewel was to represent the moon, the sparkles to be the stars.

"This necklace is your gift," said Galadriel softly, clasping the chain around Avalain's neck. "Each jewel and design are specifically made for each Elvish princess, and it is given to her when she reaches the age determined. This was to be given to you on your nineteenth date of birth, had you arrived here in Lothlórien for the Elvish meetings. As it is… it is yours now. It contains the light of your star inside, and it shines brighter than any other, given that yours is the youngest. It can be used for many things—such as keeping a last resort of energy among your person or for safekeeping… or even as a gift. But know that this is very important… should the necklace break, your immortal life shall diminish. Be sure to guard it with your life, my granddaughter, or give it to someone who would always have you by their side."

Again Avalain curtsied out of respect and whispered, "Thank you." She could not keep her eyes off its beauty. The charm resembled the moon and stars yet pertained a delicate and complicated pattern of swirls; Avalain promised herself to treasure the gift.

Galadriel held out her arms, and Avalain walked into them. Embracing her grandmother for what she feared was the last time, she was relieved to hear, "We shall cross paths again… And when we do, we shall both be content. I promise you this—you will be happy with the love you shall have next we meet."

With a thankful smile, Avalain returned to where the Fellowship was awaiting. She had been the last to be called, though Aragorn was also conversing with Lord Celeborn. They were speaking in hushed tones, so she could not hear them…

Putting on a convincing smile, Avalain walked to Sam, who did not look happy about traveling by boat. Giving him encouraging words, she could not help but laugh lightly as the hobbit stumbled into the craft and shot his arms out to steady himself. She placed a hand on his shoulder before going to aid the other hobbits except for Merry, who had no trouble at all with either the boats or the water. Matter of fact, he seemed to enjoy the ordeal.

At last, Aragorn returned, and he climbed into the boat with Frodo and Sam. As she, Legolas, and Gimli all rode in one boat, she forcibly took a paddle from Legolas despite his saying that she did not have to. She finally ended the argument by saying, "Whether you allow it or not, I'm _**going**_ to help you."

Though his exasperation caused Avalain to laugh, she also could not help but notice how much the pain had reduced since speaking to Galadriel. She felt that she would be able to avoid love—or let her heart decide eventually—without anyone else having to become hurt. This realization gave her a new spirit, and she smiled as they set off down the river.

Just before the fair city of Lothlórien was out of sight, the Fellowship turned back to look at it. From the distant shore they could still see the Lady Galadriel waving them farewell, her white dress gleaming in the early morning light.

And then she, along with the city, disappeared.

For a while, the ride across the river was silent. Though they did not know it, all were thinking about their last discussions with Galadriel, and her gifts to them. Glancing among her companions, Avalain could see a few withdraw their items and look at them with compassion—Merry and Pippin revealed silver daggers, and Sam clutched at an Elvish rope. Frodo's hand was clasped over a jar of light; Avalain had to swallow her amazement. She knew the light of that star very well, even _**if **_it was kept in a jar. Aragorn checked Arwen's jewel more often, as if to be sure it remained there—Boromir had his hand in his pocket, but once when he withdrew the object, all Avalain could see was a flash of silver before it disappeared. Legolas looked to the bottom of the boat, where he had been given more arrows of the wood of the Elder Tree. And though Gimli did not reveal the object he'd been gifted, he soon said gruffly, "I have taken my worst wound at this parting, having looked upon that which was fairest. Henceforth I will call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me."

"What was it?" asked Legolas with a smile.

"I asked for one hair from her golden head. She gave me three," said Gimli thoughtfully in response. Avalain and Legolas alike grinned, remembering how just a fortnight before he had claimed that the Elvish witch would never entrance him the way she did to all others. Not only that, remembered Avalain, but the legend of a pure heart deserving Galadriel's hair was finally completed.

The ride down the river continued.

More days passed, and Avalain had succeeded in cheering Frodo up a couple times. She had made him smile, a change noticeable to all in the Fellowship. He especially seemed to regret leaving Lothlórien—even more so than Gimli. All were quite worried about him…

That night on the river, Avalain finally triumphed in calming Frodo and Pippin to sleep. Though she normally would have challenged them in their training, a darkness loomed over the Fellowship, making her anxious. She could not see or hear the threat, but she could sense it. She exchanged a look with Legolas, who seemed to feel the same way.

There was a splash from the river a half-hour later. Legolas had fallen asleep, but Avalain remained wide awake, and she bolted upright at the noise. She carefully crept to the water's edge and joined Boromir in glancing over the river—silently, he pointed to a log floating across the water. Avalain stealthily reached for her bow, but a hand stopped her.

Aragorn shook his head. "Gollum. He has tracked us since Moria. I had hoped we would lose him on the river, but he's too clever a waterman."

Avalain only nodded and replaced her bow on top of her spare cloak. Then she retreated back to Frodo, who had awoken.

Kissing his forehead, murmured the princess, "Sleep, my dear hobbit. Sleep…" Her fingers lightly brushed his cheeks, making his eyes close sleepily. He restrained a yawn before his breathing deepened again. Hummed she sadly, "How I wish I could do more, Frodo…"

Frodo's head found its way to her shoulder, and there she held him, preparing to drift off into a light sleep herself. Though she tried as before, sleep would not come—suddenly, she heard voices.

It was Aragorn and Boromir. She soon realized the topic had not strayed from Gollum pursuing the Fellowship's movements. Said Boromir, "And if he alerts the enemy to our whereabouts, it will make the crossing even more dangerous. Minas Tirith is the safer road. You know that—from there we can regroup; strike out at Mordor from a place of strength."

Replied Aragorn, "There is no strength in Gondor that can avail us."

"You were quick enough to trust the Elves," pointed out Boromir. He then asked Aragorn, "Have you so little faith in your own people? Yes, there is weakness. There is frailty. But there is courage also, and honor to be found in Men!" Hearing nothing but silence from Aragorn, he added bitterly, "But you will not see that. You are afraid! All your life you have hidden in the shadows, scared of _**who**_ you are, of _**what**_ you are."

Avalain froze, startled by the sudden barbs in his voice. Her eyes widened, but she said nothing. Silence again reigned, until Aragorn said with just as much venom, "I would not lead the Ring within a hundred leagues of your city." Then he stalked off, but not before noticing that Avalain's eyes were open.

He gave her an apologetic look before resuming his walk.

"Boromir," called Avalain quietly once Aragorn was gone. He turned towards her—she grew alarmed by the angry look in his eyes. After Boromir blinked, however, that disappeared. His eyes then fell from her face to the necklace she wore. Its light was brighter than any flame, the twinkles of white conspicuous in the fading light. "Are you all right?" she asked warily.

The words of Galadriel suddenly entered her mind—_I sense a threat coming over the Fellowship, and though you are strong and are able to defeat the evil of the Ring without struggle, there are others who cannot do the same…_

Avalain's heart shook as she realized that he might be succumbing to the power of the Ring—yet seeing how _**normal **_he appeared as he smiled at her made her believe that she was being ridiculous. After all, the members of the Fellowship were strong and able to resist the temptations the Ring had to offer. But even after Boromir smiled and brushed her hair back behind her ear, Avalain was struggling to believe herself.

The following morning, Avalain woke to the sound of chirping birds. The sunlight was bright as it glared upon herself and Frodo, who still lay next to her. She wished to allow him rest… he required it more than everyone else. She pleaded to Aragorn to let him sleep as the others packed up their supplies.

With a curt nod, he allowed for Frodo to remain asleep. Then, remembering that she had overheard the argument between him and Boromir the previous night, he added with brotherly affection, "You should sleep more too. Regain some strength from rowing, Avalain—I know you have been taking more than your fair share of night shifts."

At the truth of this statement, she smirked and laid her head back down and closed her eyes. The Elvish girl could not restrain a smile as the hobbit moaned in his sleep and turned his head so that it was on her shoulder. Placing one hand around Frodo's back to hold him to her, a strange thought entered her mind.

_I love these hobbits as I would my own children…_

Once she thought this, she knew it was true. She again vowed to protect them with everything she had—even her own life.

Another half-hour passed before Avalain was told to wake Frodo… yet looking at his peaceful state, she could not bring herself to do it. In the end, Avalain managed to convince Gimli to switch spots with Frodo before their next stop so he could remain asleep. Much to her relief, the Dwarf obliged, and Gimli joined Sam and Aragorn. Meanwhile, Frodo remained asleep with his head on Avalain's lap as they traveled downriver.

"I see the love you have for the hobbits," said Legolas as he rowed. Avalain had asked him to pardon her for not rowing the first few hours of the day—he had responded with a sigh and a muttered, "Finally. You must rest, Avalain."

At the moment, however, the princess smiled and said in reply, "I think of them as I would my own sons."

Legolas was startled at this, but seeing the sincerity in her face, replied he, "I should have noticed a great time before now. I see it in their eyes as well, Avalain. They look to you as they would to their mother or older sister whom they can always depend on. They love you…"

"And I love them. Just as I love all of you," murmured Avalain, lightly brushing a stray lock of Frodo's curly brown hair behind his ear. She felt Legolas's gaze at her response, though neither said anything for a while.

An hour later, Frodo finally awoke, startled to find that they were on the river and that he had slept soundly for the first time since Lothlórien.

Hearing Avalain's laughter at his expression, the hobbit only flushed and sat next to her as they continued onward.

At last, Aragorn called for a rest. The Fellowship docked for a short respite. There, Avalain made sure Frodo had something to eat before allowing him to return to Sam and Aragorn. Gimli—who had had a long conversation with Samwise—returned talking about the things he had discussed with Sam, causing for Avalain to smile and participate as well.

Before much longer, the sound of rushing water entered the ears of both Avalain and Legolas. Though a large boulder blocked their line of sight, they heard Aragorn say with excitement, "Frodo. The Argonath… long have I desired to look upon the kings of old. My kin."

The boats passed around the large rocks obscuring the scene. When it could be seen, all gasped.

Guarding the river with their arms extended were two of the kings of old: Kings of Gondor, who stood tall and proud. They were crafted of a white marble, the detail extraordinary. Such craftsmanship must have been the finest in all Middle-Earth, thought Avalain, for truly these are the greatest works of this realm… To add to their majesty, the statues were no less than two-hundred feet tall.

After they passed the Argonath, the Fellowship could see the edge of the river. At Aragorn's command, they docked the boats on the pearly white shore, the waterfalls of Rauros a hundred feet in front of them.

Once the Fellowship reached solid ground, said Aragorn, "We cross the lake at nightfall. Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north."

Avalain was busy drying off Pippin—he had fallen into the river due to his numb legs. She was alarmed at Aragorn's statement, but before she could relay her concerns, Gimli got to the matter.

"Oh, yes?" he scoffed. "Just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muíl, an impassible labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks. And after that, it gets even better! Festering, stinking marshland as far as the eye can see."

"That is our road," said Aragorn with an authoritative calm. "I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf."

Gimli was not appeased with this comment. He groaned and exclaimed indignantly, "Recover my—humph!"

Pippin and Avalain exchanged looks and stifled laughter. As the Elvish princess handed him her spare cloak, she shrieked and shouted, "Pippin!" as he shook his head like dog instead of taking the cloak. They both laughed—beside them, Legolas approached Aragorn and mumbled lowly, "We should leave now."

"No. Orcs patrol the eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness," responded Aragorn.

Looking into the western woods suspiciously, said Legolas, "It is not the eastern shore what worries me. A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near. I can feel it."

To his left, grumbled Gimli, "'Recover strength.' Pay no heed to that, young hobbit," he added in Merry's direction.

Though Merry heard his words, he looked troubled. "Where's Frodo?"

All leapt up and perused the place. Sure enough, Frodo was missing—a red color caught Avalain's eye, and she staggered seeing that it was Boromir's shield.

_The Ring __**did **__get to him… _she thought with despair, rushing off into the forest despite Aragorn's yells not to. With Pippin following, Avalain grabbed onto his hand and pulled him along.

"Where do you think he's gone off to?" asked the hobbit. But the Elvish Lady was struggling not to allow tears to cascade down her cheeks at both realizations—that Frodo was missing and that Boromir's mind had been taken.

"I don't know," she responded, mustering all her control into those words.

For a while they continued running, each calling out Frodo's name with increasing apprehension. At last, Pippin released his hand from her grip and said, "Avalain, we will accomplish nothing if we do not split up! We must search for him on our own."

At first, Avalain was worried about what he was suggesting. The darkness that had surrounded them all was closer than ever, and she did not wish to let Pippin go off on his own. On the other hand, it was likely that the threat she sensed was Boromir, and the fact that Frodo was missing retained highest priority.

So it was with reluctance that Avalain nodded and called, "Be careful!" after a fleeing Pippin. She was comforted slightly when she watched him meet up with Merry before continuing his search.

Ten minutes passed. Avalain had not found anyone in the Fellowship, much less Frodo exclusively. Her breath came in short gasps and she threw her hands to her head. She yelped as she tripped over a fallen log; rising, she darted forward, still calling the hobbit's name.

At last, she was forced to acknowledge that her strategy wasn't working. Forcing herself to calm down and slow her breathing, Avalain closed her eyes and thought of the places Frodo might have disappeared to.

_He might just be exploring, _she thought hopefully. _He could just be stretching his legs. After all, he __**has **__been sitting in a boat for a few hours. Maybe Boromir just went with him since he knows that Frodo shouldn't be alone… _Avalain's hopes faded when she remembered, _But Boromir __**always **__takes his shield. __**Always. **__Unless in a great hurry…_

The certainty that Boromir had been seduced by the Ring caused an unconsented sob. As she despaired, the princess then knew exactly why Frodo would have gone on a walk alone… The looks he'd had over the past few days, his forlornness for Lothlórien, the wistful expressions at the sun and sky?

"He's leaving us," Avalain whispered. Knowing instantly that everyone had made a tremendous mistake, she darted back to the shore, not bothering to call his name since he would surely hide if he heard her coming. Instead, she took the time to run through the fallen leaves of the forest, taking care to hardly make a sound.

Before she could reach the shore, Avalain collided straight into someone. She gasped as she fell, for no one was there. Still, she lunged out and grabbed onto a wrist or ankle that she could not see.

"Frodo!" she called. "Please, at least explain to me!"

"No!" cried his distant voice. "You will—you will try to take it from me!" At last, though, he became visible. His eyes were wide and wary. Seeing the desperation of her dear friend caused for desperation on Avalain's part as well, and she shook her head in contradiction.

Frodo looked at her face before extending his hand. Avalain saw the gold glimmer of the Ring in his palm. With Frodo's eyes upon her face, asked he quietly, "Would you refuse it now?"

The Ring shone lustrously in the sunlight. Though its appearance for something so deadly was startling, Avalain scoffed until she heard its tempting whisper… It said her name, over and over again, echoing and repeating in her mind, showing her faint images of the power she could have if she just took hold of the Ring and claimed it as her own…

Yet the fact that Frodo was leaving still dominated her mind. Of her own free will, she closed his fingers around it. Tears leaking from their eyes, the hobbit threw his arms around her. "I wish you could go with me, Avalain. But I cannot let you do this… please watch the others for me."

"I _**will **_see you again, Frodo Baggins," said Avalain with utmost sincerity. "This will not be our last meeting." As she put his face in her hands and kissed his forehead, something burned in the pocket of her lavender dress. Disturbed, Avalain checked it and saw the white gem Galadriel had given her. She gasped and knew the gem was to be Frodo's.

"Frodo," she whispered, taking his hand. "This is a gift to you. This gem has the power to summon me for aid. The amount of energy you store in this jewel determines the length of time that I am brought to you—the spell is quite simple. All you must do is hold your hand over it and imagine how much energy you wish to deposit into this. But the enchantment of this diamond only works once, so use it only as a last resort." She pressed the gem into his hands. "I have been storing my own energy into this diamond for the past week. At the moment, should you summon me now, I would appear in front of you for twelve hours."

Frodo stared at the gem in his hand and glanced back at Avalain, his face full of gratitude, relief, and sorrow. Taking his face in her hand one last time, she whispered, "Goodbye, Frodo. I will always be with you."

"Goodbye, Avalain," he replied thickly. He embraced her once more before rising and running to the riverside.

For a few moments, Avalain remained there. Two minutes passed, and someone else suddenly crashed into her. It was Samwise, who was chasing madly after Frodo. He shouted an apology, but Avalain stopped him.

Grabbing his hand, she swiftly withdrew one of the daggers she kept, still in its sheath. Pressing it into his palm, said she sadly, "You are one of the bravest people I've ever met in Middle-Earth, Samwise Gamgee. You shall see me again someday… I'm certain of this. Now go quickly." She kissed his forehead, and Sam rushed off after a swift embrace and a hurried thanks for everything she had done.

As she watched him go, Avalain's heart throbbed. Her grandmother had been right—paths would split, and she could not take them all. She was not able to restrain the sobs that rose up from her throat. Tears burned her eyes, yet those were swiftly stopped when she heard the sounds of swords resonating throughout the air.

To the east, she heard Aragorn's angry battle cries, recognizable thumps of arrows, and the sounds of Gimli's exhilarated shouts. Yet to the west, the sound of a horn blasted through the air. She knew it was Boromir calling for aid.

Avalain froze, torn in two. The horn sounded again, as did more shouts from the east. She turned in both directions, her mind not able to function. Steadying her breathing, the girl stopped moving and closed her eyes, letting herself truly think for the first time in weeks. Her mind calmed, made its decision.

The Elvish princess unsheathed her sword and sprinted to the west.

She did not run even for a minute before leaping out at two horrendous creatures. Both were surprised with her sudden appearance, and Avalain downed them easily. Yet as she glanced upon them, she realized that these were not just Orcs.

The armor protecting the creatures was thicker and stronger. Their weapons were of a finer craft, and they seemed larger and viler. She kicked one of the bodies with her foot, and a hideous face with glowing red eyes, bared fangs, and skin the color of mud was revealed. Yet her eyes were not on the faces of such monsters. They were on the helmets of the banes… a white hand had been imprinted on the metal.

"Uruk-hai," she whispered, her feet rushing towards the horn's ringing. Though she did not meet any more monstrosities during her sprint, Avalain was afraid that she might already be too late.

As she burst through a last set of trees, she found herself in the middle of a forest paddock. Boromir, Merry, and Pippin were all fending off numerous Uruk-hai. Avalain charged, taking down many from the back. They had not been expecting someone to come, so the monsters were shocked upon feeling the cold metal as it sliced mercilessly down their backs.

Unlike the Orcs from Mordor, the Uruk-hai from Isengard did not howl or shriek as they were cut down. On the contrary, they died with snarls upon their faces. Though it took more strength to kill such mutations, Avalain's sole concern was lessening the rain of monsters around the Man and the hobbits.

Hearing her angry cries, the trio knew that aid had come at last. Reimbursed with new hope, they continued to fight back, their strength and determination increased. Hearing the familiar yells of Merry and Pippin, Avalain's spirits rose knowing they were alive.

At last she had freed them from the ambush of creatures, and they all jumped out to join her. The avalanche of enemies, however, had all but ended. More charged, their swords raised menacingly, the sunlight glinting wickedly off the black metal. They came from all different directions—as one charged Merry, Avalain whipped out a dagger and chucked it straight into the beast's throat. Then she was forced to resume her sword-fighting to not have her _**own **_throat slit.

She whirled around as a lavender blur, her sword flashing silver. Soon it was stained black with blood. Though Avalain had been cut along her arm, she did not gasp out of pain—Boromir sustained injuries far worse than her own, at any rate.

Before long, they were fighting back-to-back. She noticed how much quicker the rain of monsters lessened as they did. The hobbits, seeing their strategy, drew closer, sticking their short swords into the chinks of enemy armor and straight into the heart of an Uruk-hai should it get close enough to harm Avalain or Boromir.

Avalain cried out as a blade sliced through her side. It gushed scarlet blood, staining her dress and the ground. She raised her sword to cut off its head only to find another sword had already done the job _**for **_her. She turned to see Boromir glance worriedly into her eyes before being forced to return to the situation at hand.

"Where are the others?!" called Merry.

"Fighting to the east!" she replied. Plunging her sword through the chest of one of the monsters, Avalain gasped as she noted just how many more remained. There were two dozen, and she suspected that more lingered past the trees, waiting for their chance to fight. At the top of the paddock stood a single Uruk, its head held high like a person in command. His dark eyes glittered with enthusiastic malice, as if he simply enjoyed watching death despite the fact it was _**his **_troops that were dying.

Avalain had to take her gaze away from the black figure as more beasts lunged towards her—parrying and counterattacking, she gasped, seeing the Uruk at the head with a bow. An arrow was already loaded, his gaze on his target.

"_**NO!**_" screamed Avalain, but she could do nothing as the arrow flew with deadly accuracy through the air. It whizzed over the hobbits and past her left shoulder—a sickening thud filled her ears, and she whirled around to find it had impaled Boromir.

"No…" whispered she, her sword falling to her side. The hobbits stood still for shock, not knowing what to do. For a moment they remained stationary; regaining her ability to move, Avalain rushed to Boromir as he sank to the ground. When she checked her bracelet, her heart sunk. What little energy she had had, she had transferred to the jewel she'd given Frodo…

The Uruk-hai surged forward, blocking Avalain's path. Screaming in sheer fury, she swung her sword. It transformed from a weapon to an arc of destruction. Her obstacles fell to the ground; she continued her path to Boromir. Seeing her determination to reach him, his eyes became hard and resolute.

He shouted in resilience and rose, his sword in the air. Together, he and Avalain found each other in the thick of the mess. The arrow lodged above Boromir's heart made the Elvish princess stop short. As they fought, she could see the wound leaking blood. She knew that it would continue to bleed unless something was done.

She only had time to call his name before another arrow embedded itself in his stomach. He staggered and gasped, falling to his knees on the forest floor.

Her eyes widened in shock; Avalain stepped back. A fire of anger consumed her, and the princess threw all the daggers she owned at snarling faces to try to reach him, save him… once she cleared a path, she found that Boromir had once again risen and resumed battle.

The hobbits had also risen from their stupor and rejoined the fray. With their short swords sticking in the bodies and faces of the Uruk-hai, they lessened the rain of creatures around Avalain. Reaching Boromir, she yanked the gem of her bracelet open—her heart fell as she saw the small amount of energy there. But she was _**going **_to save him. He would _**not**_ perish.

_I won't allow it._

Avalain placed the small ball of energy over her palm. Summoning as much energy as she could from herself, she smiled grimly noting how much the ball grew. She pressed her hand to his forehead—something stopped her.

Glancing down at her wrist, she blanched seeing that it was Boromir himself. His hand had grabbed onto hers, preventing her from saving him.

Shaking his head, said he sadly, "No, Avalain. It isn't enough. It isn't worth it. I'm not worth—" his words were stopped as another arrow flew through the air, landing to the left of his heart. He stumbled into her arms.

Trembling, Avalain had not the willpower to raise her sword again. The hobbits shouted in desperate resilience but were surrounded and captured in the arms of the Uruk-hai. Avalain did not even have enough time to scream their names before they were hauled away.

As tears clouded her vision, a storm of footsteps entered her ears. Looking up, she saw the large party of Uruk-hai rushing her and Boromir—with a last surge of strength, she dragged them out of the way.

While she sobbed, Avalain felt a hand wipe away the tears trailing down her cheeks. Glancing down, she saw Boromir… he was smiling wistfully, a hopeful look in his eyes even as he was dying.

She propped him up against a tree, preparing to again harness her energy. But like before, she was stopped by his weak hand.

"I'm not worth it," murmured he, finally finishing his explanation. Seeing Avalain shake her head, he repeated quietly, "It's not enough. The effort would kill you or put you unconscious, and the last thing I wish for you is capture… even if it is imminent."

Barely restraining more sobs, cried she, "No! I'm not letting you go. I chose you. I came to you instead of the others. You aren't leaving me now."

"Avalain…"

She caught his hand and intertwined her fingers in his. Her hand was shaking—he felt it and even so said, "Avalain, I _**am **_leaving." Yet as he said these words, a flash of hope overcame his sorrow as he asked, "By what do you mean you chose me?"

"I calmed myself," said she, still quivering. "I brought peace to my mind and let my heart lead me where I wished to be. That was to you, Boromir. I cannot let you go from me like this. Not now…"

There was a silence between the two as the Uruk-hai stomped past them. But Avalain knew they would not be shielded from sight forever. Someone would notice them eventually.

Knowing this, Avalain's hand retreated to her neck. She fumbled with her necklace's clasp that was hidden by her hair. Removing the silver necklace, murmured she, outstretching her hand, "Take it."

But he shook his head in refusal. "No, Avalain. You shall live to see better times. I am certain of this… and what else I am certain of is that you shall find another to bring you joy and love throughout your lifetime. I cannot take this from you, not when there is someone else you can live for. For me… knowing… knowing is enough."

His hand steadily made its way towards his pocket, and Avalain watched as he brought out the object that remained there. "This was my gift from Galadriel. She asked me what gift I could ask for from the Elves, yet all I wanted—all I've ever wished for since I met you—was the guarantee of your safety and happiness."

As he held out his hand, Avalain could see the item in his palm. It was a silver and white hairpin bejeweled with gems of colors representing both Elves and Men. "The Lady Galadriel told me that this was to be a gift to you… given time. She said I would know when to give it to you. She also promised that you would be brought invaluable joy from this in years to come."

With visible effort, he placed the shining pin in her hair, where it glittered with an aura resembling contentment. Genuinely smiling, said Boromir quietly, "There. Now you are truly Avalain Nightshade, Lady of the Stars."

Avalain laughed weakly, unable to contain the sound. She threw her hand up to her mouth, but too late—the Uruk-hai had noticed and were beginning to walk towards her. Seeing she had limited time left, the Elvish princess placed a hand against the Soldier of Gondor's face.

"Someday I shall see you again," she murmured with an attempted smile. It became truer when his hand gently caressed her face, removing all remains of tear-streaks from her cheeks. "I shall find you in the land of white, where everything is silver glass." And leaning forward, she gently pressed her lips to his forehead in final farewell.

The Uruk-hai reached her and began to drag her away. Her arms were wrenched behind her back, shooting a searing pain up her shoulders. But Avalain did not cry out. She kept her eyes solely on the face of her beloved Boromir. With a look of absolute ardor on his face, he whispered, "I love you, Avalain."

"As I do you," she said, more tears burning her eyes. But a sorrowful smile was on her face as added she with the utmost sincerity, "I always have, and so I always will."

Her arms bound behind her back and her legs tied together, the She-Elf could not bring herself to say or do anything more as she was tossed carelessly across the back of one of the Uruk-hai. Her gaze remained on Boromir as he watched her retreat—she saw him sigh and look away.

The leader of the party of banes noticed he was still alive. Approaching him slowly, he directed his bow at Boromir's forehead.

Avalain could not tear away her gaze even then. Her anguish and grief would not allow it. As she was brought away, Avalain saw Aragorn rush out of the trees. His eyes widened as he saw her being led away, and he gave her a look that shouted; _I __**will **__find you! _

And with that, he drove his sword towards the leader of the Uruk-hai, distracting the beast from murdering Boromir.

Avalain smiled weakly, but a smile it was. Knowing that the words of her grandmother rang true, she began to sob bitterly. She finally allowed rue, agony, and pain to consume her as a fire would a forest. She paid no heed to the wounds she had received during the battle. The blow done to her heart was much greater.

She began to think back on all the times she'd spent with Boromir, Faramir, and Legolas. Though she mourned for the days when all was simple and carefree, she could not help but laugh remembering the teasing she had been dealt when the brothers noticed her expression as she laid eyes on the White Tower of Ecthelion. Her hand clutched her precious necklace and she placed a hand on her hairpin for comfort…

A few minutes passed and all was silent except for the heavy footfalls of the Uruk-hai who held her captive. Avalain held hope in her heart thinking that Aragorn might be able to hear them retreat. That was when she recalled he was the greatest tracker Middle-Earth had ever seen… assuming that he chose to follow her instead of Frodo. She wondered who else Frodo had met before her, for surely she was the last to see him.

_Oh, Sam. How I wish to know if you have reached him. Frodo shall need you before this quest is over…_

"_**There **_you are, you useless scum!" shouted a gruff, impatient voice. Avalain's eyes shot open and she vainly tried to see how many beasts had survived her sword combined with Boromir's. "You two are going straight to the front! Give me the girl, you maggots!"

The Uruk-hai grumbled in malcontent and handed her over. The Elvish princess surveyed those about her. Her heart sank as she saw at least three dozen more creatures lined up—her eyes rested on Merry and Pippin, who were forced to straddle the backs of their captors so they would not slip off and fall.

"Avalain!" called Pippin, his brown eyes wide. "What happened? Where is Boromir? Didn't—didn't you have—energy…" he faded upon seeing the sorrowful expression upon her face. Instantly understanding, the hobbits each gave her a look of almost adult sympathy.

As the Uruk-hai rushed away, Merry and Pippin spoke lowly and with an attempt of encouragement. Though they eventually dried her tears, her dry sobs still racked her body, heart, and mind.

After a few hours of unbearable pain, Avalain fell asleep, freed from torment. But she knew that it would resume pursuing her when she regained consciousness.


	12. Chapter 12

As Avalain and the two hobbits were led away, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli returned to the campsite. There they placed Boromir's body in a boat and sent it down the falls of Rauros, where it would lead him back to his country of Gondor. Afterward, Legolas and Gimli realized that Frodo had left the Fellowship.

Startled, they pushed the boat towards the riverbank… Aragorn did not move as Legolas exclaimed, "Hurry! Frodo and Sam have reached the eastern shore—I suspect Avalain is among them as well." But as he looked upon the leader of the Fellowship, he realized something. Gesturing to Frodo and Sam, who were barely visible in the thickets of the trees to the east, he said, "You mean not to follow them."

Aragorn's smile grew thin as he thought of Avalain and the other hobbits. Sighing, he said, "Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands. And Avalain is not with them. As I arrived to their battlefield, she was being taken away along with Merry and Pippin by the Uruk-hai."

Horror filled Legolas as he realized what the fate of his beloved Avalain would become. He opened his mouth but could say nothing; Gimli spoke first. "Then it has all been in vain. The Fellowship has failed."

Putting a hand on their shoulders, responded Aragorn, "Not if we remain true to each other." Gimli roughly put a hand on Aragorn's arm. "We will not abandon Merry, Pippin, and Avalain to torment and death. Not while we have strength left."

He grabbed miscellaneous daggers and weapons and put them in his belt. "Leave all that can be spared behind," said Aragorn. "We travel light." Then, shoving his dagger into his sheath, added he with a knowing smirk, "Let's hunt some Orc."

Legolas and Gimli exchanged looks. Seeing their shared determination, exclaimed Gimli, "Yes!" He shouldered his axe and trotted after Aragorn. Legolas was not far behind—thus began the expedition to rescue their captured friends.

Though Pippin and Avalain were relatively unharmed, once three days had passed, they became quite worried about Merry. He slept fitfully as he was slung across the back of one of the Uruk-hai. A rather large gash remained open on his forehead. Avalain wished to aid him, but her hands and legs were bound so it was nearly impossible to move.

She had been stripped of a great many of her weapons—her throwing knives were luckily undisturbed—which angered her greatly. Struggling was no use either. The princess had tried to worm out of her bonds the first day only to receive a whiplash across her back. And so it was with malcontent that she was forced to accept her captivity.

But now, observing Merry's state, her desperation returned. Though sorrow from Boromir's death still haunted her, it only fueled Avalain's resolve to get the hobbits out of capture.

Pippin also noticed the state of his friend. "Merry!" he cried. There was no response. Merry's eyes were closed, his face was pale, and blood was slipping down the left side of his face. "Merry!"

He did not wake.

Avalain twisted to look at the hobbits. She and Pippin shared looks. He was not comforted, seeing how tight her chains were—they cut deep into her wrists.

Just then, there came the loud noise of careless sloshing. Avalain and Pippin turned towards the noise to find an Uruk-hai drinking from a flask. Though she was not sure what the canteen had inside, Pippin immediately exclaimed, "My friend is sick! He needs water. Please."

"Sick, is he?" exclaimed the leader of the party. "Give him some medicine, boys!" A twisted smirk came over the Uruk's face as it proceeded to force the drink down Merry's mouth. But as it was poured into his throat, Pippin and Avalain could clearly see that the liquid inside the canteen was not water. It was some foul, brown substance neither knew—it choked Merry awake as he gasped for air.

The Uruks laughed hideously at their sport, and one called out, "Can't take his draught!" The sounds of evil mirth only increased with this jeer.

"Leave him alone!" shouted Pippin.

"Why?" asked the leader impatiently. Pointing at Pippin, said he, "You want some?" The hobbit, of course, was silent. "Then keep your mouth _**shut.**_"

As the band of monsters continued cheering horribly and regaining their breath from such a long run, Merry had finally awoken. Relieved, exclaimed Pippin, "Merry!"

Twisting to look at him, whispered Avalain, "Are you all right, Merry? I can try to get my energy to you should you ask for it."

Shaking his head, said Merry weakly, "I'm fine."

"You're hurt," pointed out Pippin, his brown eyes filled with worry.

Repeating the previous gesture, said Merry next, "I'm fine… it was just an act." A playful gleam came over his eyes even though it did not reach his face. Avalain could see that what he said was partially true—though the wound was not fatal, it gave him pain.

Astounded, hissed Pippin, "An act?"

"See?" asked Merry somewhat tauntingly. His voice was scratchy. "Fooled you too." Returning to sincerity, added he, "Don't worry about me, Pippin… you either, Avalain. We have enough to worry about." This received small smiles only because the comment was entirely truthful.

Though the Uruk-hai were about to move again, one started uneasily. His head jerked up in the air, and he started sniffing as if something had polluted the atmosphere. Seeing this, asked the leader harshly, "What is it? What do you smell?"

Said the second Uruk-hai, "Man-flesh." There was an onslaught of grumbling as the two words were spread around the entire company.

"They've picked up our trail! Let's move!" commanded the leader. Avalain and Merry beamed as they realized Aragorn and whoever else accompanied him were truly coming.

Pippin's eyes gleamed. "Aragorn," he whispered. He bit at the leaf of Lórien on his cloak. Catching the metal between his teeth, Pippin yanked off the brooch and spat it back out so it landed on the ground.

The party of Uruk-hai continued running…

Nightfall crept closer, and for hours more the Uruk-hai continued. At last, however, shouted one Orc angrily, "We ain't going no further… till we've had a breather!" Many of his kin were nodding at this comment, cursing in the Black Speech.

"Get a fire going!" shouted the leader of the Uruk-hai. Once the beasts could stand without having to double over, they hauled axes to the trees—they were right on the borders of Fangorn Forest.

As the Orcs and Uruk-hai mercilessly swung their axes, Avalain restrained the urge to gasp. She knew of the hidden magic of the trees; destroying the borders of the forest wasn't going to get the company in the trees' good graces.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Pippin struggling to crawl towards her and Merry. As he crawled, he whispered their names, for he was afraid to speak louder.

Once Pippin reached them, said Merry quietly in an attempt for soft laughter, "I think… we might have made a mistake leaving the Shire, Pippin."

This caused for a smile on Pippin's behalf, and though Avalain smiled as well, she couldn't help but think of what would've happened had they not left the Shire. Much would've been different.

All was silent except for the axes thudding dully against the wood. Avalain was still apprehensive about their rash decision—especially after hearing the groan spread all throughout the forest's borders.

"What's making that noise?" asked Pippin, turning to the princess. She was murmuring a prayer to the stars, knowing that the wood and shrubbery were not going to be happy about losing a good portion of their bark and branch for a fire… for Orcs and Uruk-hai, no less.

It was Merry who answered. "It's the trees."

Pippin appeared baffled. "What?"

"You remember that old forest? On the borders of Buckland? Folk used to say there was something in the water that made the trees grow tall… and come alive," replied Merry. Now that Avalain finished her prayer, she paid rapt attention as the hobbit spoke of the trees in the Shire. A smile came upon her face hearing the similarities of the forests close to Rivendell and Buckland.

Asked Pippin with astonishment, "Alive?"

"Trees that could whisper… talk to each other. Even _**move,**_" said Merry.

"Yes, indeed," whispered Avalain. "The Elves began this long ago, dear ones. We awoke the trees so they could have thoughts and feelings of their own. Over many years we taught them to speak and move so they might guard the forests of this land…" Avalain glanced around for a spare weapon to cut her bonds loose. There were none. Disappointment flooded her; it appeared as though the barbarians had some brains, after all.

While she thought about the stupidity of their captors, Avalain heard the harsh voice of one proclaim, "I'm starving. We ain't had nothing but maggoty bread for three stinking days!"

"Yeah!" agreed an Orc with a horrible hiss as his voice. "Why can't we have some meat?!" He looked around as if to see whether his kin were hiding food under his nose.

That was when his gaze settled on Merry and Pippin.

Pointing to them, asked he next, "What about them? They're fresh!" The Orc licked his lips in an unsavory nature. Instinctively, Avalain shielded the little hobbits from his sight.

The Uruk-hai leader was, strangely enough, on her side. "They are _**not **_for eating!" shouted he angrily and with authority. Though his tone of voice frightened some followers to back off, another Orc spoke up.

"What about their legs? They don't need those." Peering around the Uruk-hai leader, said he, "They look tasty. And what about that one in the middle? She's probably soft!"

"Get back, scum!" shouted the leader, impatient with all the disobedience. Knowing things were likely to turn belligerent, Avalain whispered to the hobbits, "Stay behind me. Do not reveal yourself to them. Slowly… scoot… back…"

They did as she said, though with their hands and legs bound, it was not easy. The malicious voice of the leader snarled, "The prisoners go to Saruman alive… and unspoiled."

Eyes narrowing, asked the same Orc, "Alive? Why alive? Do they give good sport?"

Said the second in command Uruk-hai, "They have something. An Elvish weapon. The master wants it for the war. And the master wants the girl for information. She has aid the master will go to any lengths to retrieve."

"They think we have the Ring," whispered Pippin as they scooted back. They had moved about five feet, which would get them nowhere. Avalain blanched hearing what the Uruk-hai had said—any lengths. Wizard's magic could do much damage if it was put to the wrong means.

Yet her current concern was to get Merry and Pippin to safety. Before she could hush Pippin about his correct assumption, Merry scolded him first. With a sharp shushing sound he said, "Shh! As soon as they find out we don't, we're dead."

An eager footstep sounded; Avalain knew they had other troubles than being overheard. Whirling around, she cried out as the first Orc shouted, "Just a mouthful! A bit of the flank!" He raised a sword and was about to lower it, but the leader of the party rushed forward to stop him with his _**own **_sword.

The head of the Orc fell to the ground at Avalain's feet. Swallowing uneasily, she kicked it away and made sure the hobbits were unhurt. The eyes of the Uruk-hai and Orcs alike followed the head and body of their now deceased comrade. "Looks like meat's back on the menu, boys!" shouted the Uruk leader. With roars of approval, the beasts began piling on top of one another for their share of the body.

Repulsed, the hobbits scrambled on the ground. Realizing they weren't going to get anywhere should their hands remain tied, Avalain glanced around before withdrawing her head inside her dress. With her teeth, she grabbed the hilt of a sharp knife and struggled to bring it out of the dress.

Withdrawing her head as a snail with its shell, she spat out the knife and hissed, "Hurry! Your hands!"

Ecstatic at their luck, the hobbits attempted to return to her—Merry had the knife in his hands when the second Orc who had agreed to eating them stepped on it.

Glaring at Avalain, he spat, "Nice try, pretty," before slapping her sharply across the face. She gasped more out of surprise than pain, yet the force of the impact sent her sprawling across the ground.

"Avalain!" called the hobbits, but the Orc threw her knife into a tree. Then stomping upon the backs of the hobbits, he sneered unpleasantly at them. "Go on. Call for help. Squeal! No one's going to save you now!"

Suddenly, a spear flew into the back of the Orc on top of Merry and Pippin, rendering them free. Withdrawing another knife from inside her corset, Avalain spat that out too and gave it to the hobbits. Once they were free, they released Avalain from her bonds as well. They gasped upon seeing the red, raw skin around her wrists and ankles, but she waved it off.

"Stay close to me!" she cried as a party of horse-riders burst into the Uruk-hai camp. She grasped Merry's hand before rushing off to the borders of the forest. But because of the sudden chaos, things were quite difficult—more than once, Avalain was forced to let go of the hobbit's hand to fend off an Orc.

At last, Avalain acknowledged it would be impossible for her to escape—but she knew that the hobbits could… Desperately, she picked up a sword and called, "Merry, Pippin! You must escape into the forest without me! If I do not come upon you, wait. Aragorn and the others shall arrive before long, do you hear me? Should you meet anybody, simply mention my name and you shall be safe. Go! Quickly!"

Not wishing to leave her, the hobbits reluctantly trotted off under the legs of horses and under the swords of Uruk-hai and Orcs and Men. It was here that Avalain realized the people who had come upon her were the Riders of Rohan.

Seeing the Uruk-hai had gotten over their surprise, she issued an angry cry and swung her sword. Each time it connected with a target, the faces of her two beloved hobbits were on her mind, and she thought fiercely of protecting them.

Avalain Nightshade was such an inspiration that many Riders of Rohan were astonished. They stared at the girl—the _**girl!**_—in the midst of the Orc pack. They were naturally more than confused as to what such an _**Elf?!**_-maiden was doing in the fray.

Dropping to pick up a bow and quiver of arrows, Avalain nocked an arrow. Marveling in the familiar feel of the weapon, she let the projectile fly into the skull of an Orc.

Black blood stained the ground as fallen Orcs collapsed upon it. The Riders of Rohan had a significant advantage from both surprise and horses, though they could not help but notice how well the girl in the middle of the battlefield was doing without either of these things. Ignoring their gapes, Avalain continued yanking daggers from the laces of her dress and throwing them into the skulls of the monsters.

Yet the squad of Uruk-hai was stronger than she had remembered, and they realized she was a great threat. They quickly surrounded her—Avalain gasped as she felt a stab of cold metal drive into her skin.

She fell to the ground, dropping her sword. Seeing her fall, the Men rallied and cut off the heads of all those who had ambushed her. Avalain's vision became blurred as she lay on the ground. A fire spread throughout her veins… it spread all throughout her body… yet she refused to succumb to the lull of black.

The last thing she saw was a Man with long blond hair bending over her. His dark brown eyes were narrowed in concern; they held a great amount of admiration as well. He reached out a hand as if to touch her face, but then retracted it as if he thought better of it.

"My lord Éomer, what shall we do with her?" asked a Man.

"Let us try to heal her. It would not be right to leave such an Elf-maiden here after the service she has done. Bring her with us," said the Man above her.

Hearing this, Avalain mumbled, "Thank-you," before her eyes closed.

Throughout the night, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli had no idea of what occurred. Their minds were on the hobbits and Avalain…

Discovering that the sun was steadily rising, Legolas stopped to look at it. He was unhinged somewhat—the glimmers creeping over the hills were a deep and unsettling red.

"A red sun rises… blood has been spilled this night," he murmured. His companions were not comforted by his words.

Not five minutes passed before there was the unmistakable sound of pounding hooves. Realizing it could very well be enemies, Aragorn ushered the others behind a large boulder. The sound grew louder, and then they were visible to the three trackers from their concealment.

Aragorn grew relieved seeing who rode the equestrians. Knowing the Men were friends, he emerged from his spot of refuge and shouted loudly, "Riders of Rohan! What news from the Mark?"

The Men turned around to see whom they had overlooked. Their eyes lay upon the three who had appeared, and at their lord's command they ascended the hill. Though Aragorn was smiling, that faded as the horses circled the trio. Alarmed, Aragorn put his hands up in an attempt for peace. Legolas and Gimli, on the other hand, glared malevolently at the horse-riders. Their hands twitched as if to grab for their weapons.

When the avalanche of hooves ceased, said the Man in charge, "What business does an Elf, a Man, and a Dwarf have in the Riddermark? Speak quickly!"

"Give me your name, horse-master, and I shall give you mine," announced Gimli, glaring up at the Man. Hearing the response of his comrade, Aragorn put a hand on his shoulder.

The Man glared back at the Dwarf. His face was veiled because of his regal helm, but his dark brown eyes were filled with dissatisfaction. "I would cut off your head, _**Dwarf, **_if it stood but a little higher from the ground."

Angered by this response, Legolas's hands whipped behind him. In a blinding motion he had retrieved his bow and fitted an arrow into the arrow rest, his voice filled with malice as he snarled, "You would die before your stroke fell."

Seeing the threat, the Riders of Rohan all pointed their spears at Legolas's head. Even so, the bow of the Elf was pointed resolutely at the skull of the leader.

That was when Aragorn lunged forward and lowered Legolas's arm. Then he said diplomatically, "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. And this is Gimli, son of Gloin, and Legolas of the Woodland realm. We are friends of Rohan, and of Théoden, your King." He sought to show respect for the Riders; though his statement eased the tension, the leader was still troubled.

"Théoden no longer recognizes friend from foe. Not even his own kin," said the Man at last, removing his war helm to reveal long blond hair. His hostile gaze lessened… Seeing Aragorn's confusion, he said darkly, "Saruman has poisoned the mind of the King and claimed lordship over these lands. My company are those loyal to Rohan, and for that we are banished. The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there they say, as an old man hooded and cloaked. And everywhere his spies slip past our nets." The eyes of the Man traveled to Legolas, who glared heatedly at him in return.

"We are no spies," said Aragorn to reassure the Man. "We track a party of Uruk-hai westward across the plain. They have taken three of our friends captive."

"The Uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them during the night."

Exclaimed Gimli, "There were two hobbits! Did you see two hobbits with them?!"

"They would be small. Only children to your eyes," added Aragorn. "Yet there was another. She would have participated in the fighting should you have arrived in the right time."

The Man was intrigued by the sudden helplessness of the trio. But Éomer—for that was his name—was skeptical. He did not know if the Elvish girl was truly friends with those in front of him. So, glancing significantly at his comrades, said he, "We left none alive." He gestured to the distance where smoke rose. "We piled the carcasses and burned them."

A silence took over.

"Dead?" hissed Gimli, his eyes wide.

Éomer nodded and watched carefully as the news took its toll on the hunters. Gimli the Dwarf seemed moved indeed as he stumbled backwards. The Man, Aragorn, closed his eyes and lowered his head, seemingly furious with himself. But the Elf—the Elf, whom Éomer had not expected to see any emotion from—fell to his knees. He grabbed two fistfuls of grass and clenched his hands so tightly that Éomer was certain his knuckles would break.

Knowing that the maiden they had come across the previous night belonged with her friends, added he, "Except one. She fought alongside us last night."

Their heads shot up hopefully as Éomer gestured for someone to come forward. At his command, a horse sauntered toward him, bearing one of the youngest riders. In his grasp lay a limp Avalain, her eyes closed and her face pale. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli immediately noticed her wound—but their relief at seeing her alive overrode their worry.

The Elvish princess was gently released to Aragorn, who gazed at her face with a sibling's protectiveness. Said Éomer, "I am sorry for not having told you this. Spies among these lands lie whenever they can. It would not have been the first time for that to have happened. I do not know about the fate of these hobbits, however. I feel that is a question to be reserved for her upon her wake. The She-Elf—what is her name?"

"Avalain," responded Legolas, his eyes on her face. "Avalain Nightshade of Rivendell."

The Men looked taken aback upon being informed of who the Elf truly was. They had not known—Aragorn heard Legolas's tone and quickly handed Avalain to him, knowing that he wished to be sure she was alive. Both were troubled as they gazed over her injury…

Noting their worry, Éomer whistled once again. "Hasufel! Arod! Brismath!" His summons were answered—up trotted three beautiful, strong horses.

"May these horses bear you better fortune than their former masters," declared Éomer. "Farewell… look for your friends, but do not trust to hope. They have forsaken these lands. We ride north!" This last was directed to his company, and again they galloped off.

Once the Men were gone, Aragorn mounted one of the horses with Gimli behind him, Legolas carrying Avalain on another. With downcast spirits, they rode towards the smoke…

The first thing they saw was an Uruk-hai's head spiked on a spear. Beside it were the bodies of all its deceased comrades… Not knowing where to begin, they sighed and began riffing among the edges.

After a while, it was obvious that strategy would lead nowhere. Legolas scanned the grounds to see if the hobbits had somehow escaped while Aragorn searched for any tracks he had originally overlooked. Gimli alone continued fumbling with the burned metal and bodies of the Uruk-hai and Orcs.

Avalain moaned at last, her head jerking slightly. Instantly, they all swooped upon her. Legolas's gaze fell upon the wound she had received, and his hopes fell. Holding one of her wrists to be sure there was a steady pulse, he noticed that her bracelet was glowing rather brightly compared to when he had last seen it.

Desperate to see her amber eyes, he flipped the top gem open. A swirling mass of light flew into his palm, where he made a contribution of his own. He could feel life and energy draining out of him, yet he continued until it was just enough to keep him conscious. The ball of light grew significantly; he figured it was ready. He pressed the ball of energy over her wound and began murmuring Elvish healing spells.

"Legolas!" called Aragorn, but his voice was far away. A ringing was in his ears, a dull throbbing in his head. But suddenly it all cut off—there was a gasp and he opened his eyes to find Avalain blinking.

"Avalain," whispered he.

She smiled. "Legolas…" She attempted to rise—the others quickly stopped her.

"You must regain your energy," said Legolas calmly. Avalain looked upon him and saw a difference in him—the blueness to his eyes had dimmed so that they were almost gray, and his face was abnormally pale. His hands were clenched tightly over her wrist.

Shaking her head, asked she, "What happened?" A gasp of realization escaped her as she noticed the bracelet. The aura of energy was fainter than before. "Why did you do such a thing? For you, healing spells take twice the energy as they do to me! I would have been fine."

Desiring to _**not **_argue, replied Legolas with a sigh, "I needed to see your eyes again, Avalain. And I am perfectly capable of rising to track the hobbits."

"Speaking of, Avalain, where have they gone?" piped up Aragorn quickly.

The Elvish princess looked towards the forest and said, "I… cannot be sure. I told them to flee into Fangorn and await us. But I do not even know if they escaped the battle…"

Unhinged by her words, the quartet resumed shuffling through the items piled up. As Avalain looked around the edges, the other three used their weapons to shift through all the steaming metal—that was when Gimli gasped and held up a small coil of leather.

"Look. It's one of their wee belts," said he, defeated.

Avalain's hand made its way to her throat. She stumbled backwards and choked.

Legolas stopped short. Disbelief consumed him.

Aragorn's fists clenched; his knuckles turned white. When he figured he could not contain his rage any longer, he kicked a stray helmet, shouted in fury, and he fell to his knees.

He glanced at the ground to see strange markings. He wondered how he missed them—they were not footsteps of large creatures. They were soft imprints of smaller figures.

Shifting the dirt on the ground, mumbled he, "A hobbit lay here." Looking to the left, he noted, "And the other. They crawled… their hands were bound." He rose to his feet and began following the line of disturbed dust. Stepping on something accidentally, he bent to find ropes and a knife. "Their bonds were cut! You'll want this, I expect," added he, handing Avalain the knife. She smiled and replaced it in the laces of her corset while the others were not looking.

"They ran over here—they were followed." By this time Aragorn was running, hope gnawing at him. "The tracks lead away from the battle! And into Fangorn Forest." He stopped short at the borders of the forest, wondering if the hobbits were within shouting distance.

"Fangorn… what madness drove them in there?!" huffed an astounded Gimli. Avalain smiled out of relief, but that smile soon faded as she remembered what Aragorn had said about the hobbits' being followed.

Instantly, said she, "We must go after them. Nothing shall harm us if I am around. I have been in these woods before. The trees know me. Hopefully their memories are as sound as they were five-hundred years ago." And with that, she marched into Fangorn, leaving the others with no choice but to follow.

Deeper and deeper into the woods did they travel. Two hours of trekking through vines and roots passed before receiving their first clue to the hobbits' whereabouts.

It was Gimli who spotted it—the Dwarf had located a strange liquid on a leaf. He took it on his finger and put a bit on his tongue, yet not a second after he spat it back out. "Orc blood!"

Aragorn moved forward to see if any more hints were around. He soon came across an unfamiliar imprint on the soft forest floor, and aloud he mused, "These are strange tracks…"

His words were so quiet not even the Elves heard them. At the same time, whispered Gimli, "The air is so close in here!"

"This forest is old… very old," remarked Legolas. Gazing respectfully at the trees, said he, "Full of memory… and anger."

As if on cue, the trees groaned. This alarmed the poor Dwarf, who did not like the forest much at all. Gimli raised his axe, which, being surrounded by trees, was an unwise act.

The trees moaned louder, and though the other three whirled around to find what the wood was angry at. Seeing the Dwarf, whispered Aragorn, "Gimli! Lower your axe!"

The Dwarf did as was bid. The grumbles of the trees gradually subsided.

"They have feelings, my friend. The Elves began it. Waking up the trees, teaching them to speak," said Legolas, distantly recalling tales he had been told, seeing that neither he nor Avalain were old enough to have lived during the Dark Days or the Ancient Times.

Unnerved, griped Gimli, "Talking trees. What do trees have to talk about, hm? Except the consistency of squirrel droppings."

Though Avalain's lips twitched, the other two paid no heed to his grumbles. Legolas suddenly felt another presence in the Forest …

"Aragorn, something's out there," said he sharply in Elvish. Legolas stopped short seeing the glowing white light ahead.

"What is it?" asked Aragorn quietly.

Answered Legolas, "The White Wizard approaches…"

Narrowing his eyes, said Aragorn, "Do not let him speak. He will put a spell on us. We must be quick." His hand found the hilt of his sword. Legolas and Avalain reached for their bows. Gimli withdrew his axe.

There was a tremendous burst of light. Though the Elves loosed their arrows, they were deflected. Gimli threw his axe towards the figure, but it too was ricocheted. Aragorn's sword gleamed red-hot and he was forced to throw it down.

The white light was blinding. All covered their eyes with their hands, squinting to look at the silhouette above them. And then a deep and vaguely familiar voice said, "You are tracking the footsteps of two young hobbits."

"Where are they?!" demanded Aragorn. He was almost certain this wizard had taken Merry and Pippin captive.

"They passed this way… just yesterday. They met someone they did not expect," said the voice. It was strangely modified in a way, as if two voices were blended together to make one. "Does that comfort you?"

"Who are you?" asked Aragorn instead. "Show yourself!"

The light then faded, and all blinked. When they were able to see, they found it was not Saruman who stood in front of them. It was not Saruman at all.


	13. Chapter 13

It was Gandalf.

Avalain and the others froze, each of them gazing at Gandalf, whom they had watched fall into the darkness of Moria. The scene replayed in Avalain's mind; her despair returned only to be quenched by the unmistakable fact that Gandalf was _**here, **_in front of her.

"It cannot be," whispered Aragorn, full of astonishment.

Legolas knelt on the forest floor. "Forgive me. I mistook you for Saruman." Avalain and Gimli quickly followed. Aragorn was too shocked to move.

"You fell," stated Aragorn with reverence.

"Through fire… and water," answered the wizard. "From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought with the Balrog of Morgoth… until at last I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside. Darkness took me, and I strayed out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead, and every day was as long as a life age of the Earth. But it was not the end. I felt life in me again. I've been sent back… until my task is done."

A small smile forming on his face, said Aragorn, "Gandalf."

"Gandalf?" asked he. A familiar twinkle was in his eye. "Yes. That was what they used to call me. Gandalf the Gray. That was my name."

"Gandalf!" exclaimed Gimli, smiling uncontrollably.

"I am Gandalf the White. And I come back to you now at the turn of the tide." His eyes fell upon Avalain, who was leaning against a tree trunk for support.

At last when she regained her breath, cried Avalain with quiet sorrow, "I thought you to be dead!" But seeing his next look she laughed shortly. "I am so glad to say I was wrong!"

Avalain received the smile from Gandalf that she alone could coax. Seeing his gray eyes, she was not able to contain her joy. She burst relieved laughter, much to the amusement of the others.

At last, said the White Wizard, "One stage of your journey is over! Another begins. We must travel to Edoras with all speed."

Gimli stopped short and looked quizzically at Gandalf. Realizing he had _**not **_simply imagined those words, said he, "Edoras? That is no short distance!"

Ignoring him, said Aragorn, "We hear of trouble in Rohan. It goes ill with the king."

"Yes, and it will not be easily cured," responded the wizard.

"Then we have run all this way for nothing?!" exclaimed the Dwarf indignantly. "Are we to leave those poor hobbits here in this horrid, dark, dank, tree-infested—" The trees began to groan once more. Quickly, he amended, "I mean… charming! Quite charming, er, forest!"

Avalain spoke in Elvish to calm the trees; then Gandalf spoke. "It was more than mere chance that brought Merry and Pippin to Fangorn. A great power has been sleeping here for many long years. The coming of Merry and Pippin will be like the falling of small stones that starts an avalanche in the mountains."

"In one thing you have not changed, dear friend," murmured Aragorn. The wizard appeared puzzled until Aragorn clarified. "You still speak in riddles." This caused laughter among all but Gimli, who was suspiciously eyeing the trees.

"A thing is about to happen that has not happened since the Elder days. The Ents are going to wake up and find that they are strong," said Gandalf thoughtfully.

Alarmed, asked Gimli, "Strong?!" Glancing about the trees, added he with a forced smile, "Oh, that's good."

"So stop your fretting, Master Dwarf!" scolded Gandalf. "Merry and Pippin are quite safe! In fact, far safer than _**you **_are about to be!" With that, he walked past trees and over stray roots towards the exit of the forest. Luckily he was out of earshot when Gimli said, "This new Gandalf is more grumpy than the old one!"

Avalain still could not believe that her wizard-friend and second father was alive. It was a joy that rendered her able to enjoy the eerie beauty of Fangorn with a newfound sense of lightheartedness.

Eventually, the reign of the forest ended, and yellow plains appeared. Seeing that Hasufel, Arod, and Brismath were all awaiting their riders, Gandalf whistled long and loud into the distance.

A few seconds passed before a figure took shape out of the rolling hills. It drew closer, its majestic poise recognizable even with the distance. The Elves both stared at the creature and knew this was no ordinary horse. As it drew closer, said Legolas quietly, "That is one of the Mearas, unless my eyes are cheated by some spell!"

"Shadowfax," explained Gandalf as the horse trotted up to him. It was pure white with a luxurious stride. "He is the lord of all horses and has been my friend through many dangers."

All mounted their horses; Gimli rode with Legolas, for he had become quite good friends with the Elf. Despite its abnormality, the princess smiled.

Once they set off, she marveled in the familiar feeling of horse-riding. It was one of the few things she had pined for since her departure from Rivendell.

Four days passed—at last the city of Edoras was in view. Avalain and the others gazed upon the capitol of Rohan as the sun shined on the king's hall. Once before had the She-Elf set eyes on the palace, but it had been much cheerier; whatever dark magic Saruman held over Théoden's mind was powerful.

Sighed Gandalf, "Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld. There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Théoden is now very strong… be careful what you say. Do not look for welcome here!"

With that, they took off again.

The city of Edoras drew closer. Avalain noted that it had fallen into a stupor of disrepair since last she had visited. The golden posts and watchful eyes of Men were reduced to stained metal and no guards signaling the arrival of travelers—even from afar she knew the sounds of cheerful singing and whistling from her last stay had dimmed.

Upon arriving, Avalain and Aragorn noticed a disturbance in the air above. They watched as a flag of Rohan fluttered delicately down to the ground.

They entered the city and were subject to the stares of those who lived in the village… all was unnervingly quiet. The looks they received were blank. Some, however, were hopeful as their eyes rested on Avalain and Gandalf. Those two they had met before.

"You'll find more cheer in a graveyard…" muttered Gimli, bringing a small smile to Avalain's lips. Yet she said nothing—she looked up to see two figures, one clothed in white, the other in black. She had heard tales of the shield-maidens of Rohan and knew they must be the ladies Éowyn and Eleanor.

As she looked upon them, they quickly retreated back into the hall of Meduseld.

At last they reached Meduseld. Gandalf, wearing a cloak of gray to disguise the white, advanced, yet they were stopped.

"I cannot allow you before Théoden King so armed, Gandalf Grayhame," said the leader of the guards. "By order of Gríma Wormtongue."

Looking at those who followed him, Gandalf nodded curtly, doing his best to keep his staff out of view. Avalain knew why he did so, of course—no wizard could perform magic without his staff. Though she would've been more comfortable with all her weapons, Avalain handed over her sword, bow, and quiver of arrows along with the daggers… that were visible. Upon receiving a look from the leader of the guards, however, huffed she, "Oh, very _**well.**_" She then retrieved all the knives hiding craftily in her laces.

Satisfied for the most part, said the leader looking at the wizard, "Your staff."

"Oh!" gasped Gandalf. Giving the guard a pleading look, said he, "You would not part an old man from his walking stick."

The guard gave him a look before moving aside.

Gandalf gave significant glances to the others. Avalain was forced to restrain an un-ladylike snicker upon seeing him take Legolas's arm for support. Though it was simply for show, it was quite entertaining.

The guards followed the arrivals into the palace, but they seemed rather lax about their job. That was where they were joined with another group of rather shady Mortals. As she gazed upon them, Avalain knew these were not Men of Rohan, but Men whose allegiance had been bought. Resisting a scowl, she knew freeing the King of Rohan would not be an easy task.

Looking upon him, Avalain could see his dire need of aid. Far from being the cheerful king he once was, the blue in his eyes was diminished to a dull gray, the lines in his face more pronounced, his hair a dismal shade of white.

He was not alone. At his right-hand side was a sour Man with greasy black hair and deceitful gray eyes. A black cloak was drawn up about his shoulders and neck, concealing his face. He whispered to the king, though Avalain heard his words. "My lord, Gandalf the Gray is coming. He's a herald of woe."

"The courtesy of your hall has somewhat lessened of late, Théoden King!" said Gandalf as he strode towards the King. His eyes were narrowed and filled with loathing for the conman. It was quite easy to recognize the alleged Gríma Wormtongue… Avalain knew his name was Wormtongue for a reason.

"He's not welcome," hissed Wormtongue.

Asked the King hoarsely, "Why… should I welcome _**you, **_Gandalf Stormcrow?"

"A just question, my liege," praised Gríma. He rose and walked towards them. "Late is the hour… in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Láthspell, I name him! Ill news is an ill guest."

A flash of distaste ran through the wizard's eyes. "Be silent! Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy words with a witless worm." The wizard raised his staff to the Man's face and was pleased to see the panic run through his hardened gaze.

"His staff," whispered Gríma. "I _**told **_you to take the wizard's staff!"

At this, the dark bunch of Men charged. Avalain, Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas leapt into action, jumping towards the Men to hold them away from Gandalf.

"Théoden! Son of Thengel! Hearken to me!" exclaimed the White Wizard, approaching the King of Rohan. Avalain quickly noticed a Man trying to sneak around the side, but she darted forward and issued a well-placed punch in the throat that slammed the Man into a column and rendered him unconscious.

She turned to find another coming towards her, but Legolas was already there to stop him. After hooking the Man in the jaw, he took her hand and led her back to where at least four others were attempting to detain the wizard.

Legolas turned to face one man, but Avalain grabbed onto him first. The Elf, however, sensed someone coming up behind him. So it was with as much force as he could muster that he punched backwards to make contact with a Man's nose—to his left, Gimli had shoved Wormtongue mercilessly on the ground. Waving his fist in front of the Man's face, growled the Dwarf, "I would stay still if I were you."

Aragorn, meanwhile, had a respectable pile of bleeding and bruised Men around him. Avalain regretted not being able to witness his fine fist-work, but he gave her a knowing smile as he rushed to Gandalf's side.

"I release you from the spell," said Gandalf, extending his hand to the king. It shook with the effort of the incantation, but it did not work. On the contrary, Théoden's possessor began to laugh.

"You have no power here, Gandalf the Gray!" exclaimed he.

But that was when the wizard cast aside his gray robes to prove that he was now Gandalf the White, and therefore just as powerful as Saruman. With renewed force, said he, "I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound."

Raising his staff, he jerked it forward, causing the king to be thrown backwards into his own chair. Two pairs of footsteps sounded, and Avalain whirled to find the two maidens of Rohan rushing towards their king.

Aragorn and Legolas stopped them before they could intervene—both whispered, "Wait."

As the king struggled to sit forward, Saruman's voice issued from his mouth. "If I go… Théoden dies."

Gandalf again lunged forward with his staff. "You did not kill me," announced he. "You will not kill him." The reply was a glare clearly not of Théoden's own doing—hissed Saruman, "Rohan is mine."

"_**Be-gone!**_" With one last effort, Gandalf the White pushed his staff forward, ultimately propelling the dark magic off of Théoden, rendering the king free. For a moment he sat utterly still… and then he moaned and began to fall forward. The ladies of Rohan escaped the restraints of Aragorn and Legolas and moved forward to aid him.

He landing in the arms of she with the black dress; the lady in white hovered nervously above. Before everyone's very eyes, Théoden Horse-master began to morph—the white in his hair transformed back to its normal shade of blond, and the lines in his face all but vanished. His dismal gray eyes blinked once or twice and were suddenly blue.

Once it was clear Théoden King was Théoden King, all knew he was free… as was Rohan.

"I know your faces…" said the king. His eyes darted to the girl in the black dress before she in the white. "Eleanor. Éowyn."

Both girls smiled, tears of joy springing to their eyes seeing their king restored. His eyes swept over the scene; when they reached the Elvish girl, a flash of recognition showed—that was when he saw the wizard.

"Gandalf?" asked he.

"Breathe the free air again, my friend," answered Gandalf with a relieved smile.

The king looked both utterly dumbfounded to see the wizard in front of him. Almost to himself, murmured he, "Dark have been my dreams of late." Théoden flexed his fingers as if they were to grasp hold of something—

"Your fingers would remember their own strength better… if they grasped your sword," said Gandalf, noticing this.

Realizing the wizard was correct, the king looked around. One of the guards immediately rushed forward with a lurid sheath outstretched in his hands. Théoden's fingers latched over the hilt as he withdrew the sword from its resting place. The blade glimmered contentedly.

That was when he glared over to Gríma Wormtongue, who was still captured by Gimli.

Walking towards his former advisor, the king hauled him up by the scruff of the neck and marched towards the door. He mercilessly threw Wormtongue down the steps. With a cry of pain the trickster rolled down the cold marble. With panic, shouted Saruman's servant, "I've only… _**ever**_... served you, my lord!"

"Your leech-craft," contradicted Théoden, "would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!"

"Send me not from your sight!" pleaded Wormtongue, but King Théoden would not hear of it. His sword raised; Avalain could see the unforgiving look in the king's eyes.

Then Aragorn shouted, "No, my lord!" Launching forward, he stopped the blade from descending. The king obeyed only from shock. Repeated Aragorn, "No, my lord. Enough blood has already been spilt on his account."

Knowing that Aragorn was correct, Théoden backed off just enough to make it clear that Wormtongue was not to die that moment. But the hard gaze in his eyes determined the advisor's fate. He was to leave or die.

Aragorn moved forward and held out a hand to help the Man up—but instead of being grateful for his life, Wormtongue spat at him and rushed up, his black cloak swirling about him. "Get out of my way!" he roared, parting the crowd that had arrived.

After he was gone, a voice called out, "Hail, Théoden King!" All who were watching knelt. Avalain descended to her knees with a smile, knowing that fortune was looking at the countries of Men.

"Where is Théodred?" asked the king then. "Where is my son?"

The ladies of Rohan exchanged looks of sorrow before saying mournfully, "My lord… he is through here." As the lady in white—Éowyn—passed Avalain, she caught sight of her.

"Please!" called she despairingly. Avalain could see the desperation in her eyes as next she said, "If there's anything you can do…"

Avalain followed the two ladies and the king so they could lead her to the Prince of Rohan. Through halls of gold and brown they walked, anxiety running high as each thought about Théodred.

At last they entered the room in which he lay, and the Elf girl darted over to his bedside and gently pushed aside the covers of the bed to see how grievous the wound was.

His face was pale and almost gray, and he was shaking. There were many small cuts all over his shoulders and arms—one continued to bleed even in front of her. Yet when she had removed the blankets, Avalain noticed the injury sapping his life and strength… a great gash spread from the middle of his stomach almost to his back, and it bled mahogany red. It was red and inflamed from infection.

Ignoring the others, Avalain took a deep breath and looked at her bracelet. It was shining brightly from her energy stored over the past couple of days; she figured it was a worthy cause.

"I shall try, my Lord," said Avalain in a small voice. Yet it grew in confidence as she added. "I shall do more than try. I will not cease until he is well again."

With that, Avalain placed her hands above the Man's side, concentrating on the healing spells. In between bouts of incantations she would call for healing leaves or water to ease the Man's fever.

She worked into the night, accompanied by Éowyn, Eleanor, and Théoden King. Aragorn and Gandalf stood beside her as well, ready to assist. Legolas and Gimli often remained in the room, watching her work. Their company strengthened Avalain and solidified her resolve to save Théodred.

Though at first there was no telling whether her charms were working, gradually the effects of her healing spells were visible. It took long hours, but eventually Théodred's face regained a substantial amount of color, and the smaller cuts were completely healed. Soon, the large slash at his side diminished in size until the skin had sewn together as if he had never been wounded.

Avalain stumbled backward into someone's arms. She saw Legolas steady her, smiling with what she had accomplished. Knowing that she had finished, said Avalain, "He will not awake for a few days. But he has been healed."

A silence enveloped the room as the severity of the situation sunk in. At last sounds of thanks and relief echoed throughout the room—though they did not know it, servants of Meduseld heard such mirth and told their families of the Elven princess's success. Before long, the entirety of Edoras was informed of her deed.

But Avalain knew she wasn't done yet. To be completely sure Théodred had been healed, he must awake. And she was determined to be there when he did.

Another day passed without any sign of consciousness from the prince. That, however, was just as Avalain expected. Most people who had severe injuries often slept for two days after being healed.

Much of her time was spent waiting for Théodred to wake, but when she was not at his side, she could be found in the stables caring for her steed or walking alone outside the borders of the city. Though normally she would be with her companions exchanging tales and information, she noticed that the ladies' presences were steadily increasing. It was not hard to see that Éowyn and Eleanor took a special liking to Aragorn and Legolas respectively, something that greatly bothered Avalain, seeing as one was practically her older brother—not to mention he was already in love with her sister—and the other was her best friend.

So she spent as much time as she could alone, taking company from the brushes of the wind and the smell of grass.

Avalain tried to keep her distance from these two ladies, not taking much of a liking to either. But on the third day, while in the stables brushing her horse, she unfortunately happened to overhear a conversation between Éowyn and Aragorn.

One of the horses was rearing and bucking, skittish and seemingly untamable. Avalain told herself it would be a good deed to calm the beast, but Aragorn got to it first.

In Elvish he murmured to the horse, eventually silencing it so that it was calm. Though the spectacle was rather impressive, Avalain could not help but notice that Éowyn was watching him with an intrigued glance in her eye.

"His name is Brego," said she, drawing Aragorn's attention. Seeing the way Éowyn looked at him made Avalain scowl. Though she averted her eyes, she could not do the same for her ears. "He is my cousin's horse."

"Brego?" repeated he in the Common Tongue. Then, in Elvish, he added, "Your name is kingly."

Drawing closer to him, said Éowyn, "I have heard of the magic of Elves, but… I did not look to find it in a Ranger from the North. You speak as one of their own." This last was filled with the smallest hint of awe, and it took much of Avalain's iron constitution to refrain from mocking her.

Detecting the same thing, Aragorn lowered his gaze before answering. "I was raised in Rivendell… for a time." Then, deciding it was a good time to walk away, he said, "If your cousin consents, you should set this fellow free. He has seen enough of war."

With that, he departed from the stables, leaving Avalain with Éowyn. Scowling to herself, the Elf girl figured her horse's mane was groomed enough. She proceeded to feed him a bucket of oats.

"Have you known him long?" asked Éowyn, to the exasperation of the She-Elf.

Refusing to look her in the eye, replied Avalain, "Yes. I am from Rivendell myself—he is as good as my older brother. We have lived and fought together for many long years."

"Often years seem prolonged," said Éowyn thoughtfully. Avalain restrained from smirking. She knew something the Lady of Rohan did not. She had indeed been telling the truth—many years had passed since first she had met Aragorn. He was a Dúnedain Ranger, so he was older than he appeared. Obviously the Lady of Rohan was taking it metaphorically.

Avalain was about to respond, but then said Éowyn, "Again, I must thank you. You have done us a service no other could have done… you healed my cousin. When my brother brought him back and laid him in that bed, we took one look at him and knew we should be preparing for the worst…" she swallowed uneasily and looked up at Avalain.

Avalain was surprised to see Éowyn's tears of genuine concern and love for Théodred. It was obvious to see that she truly cared for her cousin, yet the Elf girl wondered in which way.

_Both, as it seems._

"But then… _**you **_came along. All of you did. My uncle was taken over, my cousin to die. I must thank you for restoring our family's health, as well as rekindle the dying fire of hope. Though you may believe it was only the life of one, in many cases that is all it takes."

Looking upon Éowyn, Avalain grudgingly thought that perhaps she had been a tad quick to judge. She still disdained the way Éowyn spoke to Aragorn, but Avalain saw a fiery protectiveness within her eyes at the mention of her people. Her words also brought a peace of mind that Avalain had not known for a while. Knowing that Éowyn could very well be a good friend to have, Avalain smiled and said, "Each life is more than a single flame. It contributes to the ball of the sun which keeps us all alive."

She then exited the stable to return to Théodred's side.

Within another few hours, she found herself standing outside the city. The Prince of Rohan had awoken, causing the extreme joy of all. She could not begin to count the times Théoden had thanked her for saving his son, Éowyn for her cousin, Eleanor for her brother.

And though she was glad to have brought such happiness to the family, a sense of unease passed through her, drawing her out to the edges of Edoras. A dim feeling began to consume her, making Avalain feel as though perfection was not meant to last.

After another ten minutes, she was proven right. As she stared off into the distance, Avalain saw horse draw near. Using her Elvish vision, she could see it bore two riders—a young boy and his little sister. Both looked weary and starved, and as she watched them draw nearer, the boy collapsed off the horse from exhaustion.

Avalain called Gandalf, knowing he was most likely to hear. She ran towards the children and their steed, wondering what brought them on their long journey from home. Reaching the girl and making sure she was safe, the Rivendell princess then checked the boy to see that he had passed out from fatigue, not injury.

The little girl sobbed for her mother, though Avalain tried mightily to comfort her. She was glad when, another three minutes later, Gandalf appeared and aided her in bringing the two children up to the golden hall.

The boy was brought conscious by the wizard's efforts, and when he saw his leaders in front of him he was quite amazed. At Eleanor's insistence, he spoke quietly of how Men from the South were burning and raiding the villages of Rohan. He also mentioned that they bore a white hand on all their armor and faces, though he did not know what this meant.

Avalain and Eleanor provided the starved children with food to eat. Though the Elvish girl still had not taken a liking to this particular lady, she put aside her squabbles for the children. By their slim figures it was easy to see that they had not had food for a while. Meanwhile, Gandalf rushed off to inform Théoden King of the children's warning and to summon him to hear the tale himself.

Théoden took it with a hand to his forehead. It seemed each word pained him; it reminded him of his long absence due to Saruman's poisons.

When at last the boy closed his mouth and focused his attention to his soup, it was silent. The little girl looked up and used this chance to ask, "Where is Mama?"

Éowyn hushed the girl gently and draped a blanket over her shoulders. Then, she said, "They had no warning! They were unarmed. Now the Wild Men are moving through the Westfold, burning as they go… rick, cot and tree."

"This is but a taste of the terror Saruman will unleash," Gandalf informed Théoden. The wizard had taken over Gríma Wormtongue's position as advisor and was sitting to his right. "All the more potent for he is driven now by fear of Sauron. Ride out and meet him head on. Draw him away from your women and children. You must fight!"

Avalain and Théoden noticed Gandalf's hand outstretch slightly to the throne. Though it was in an encouraging manner, Avalain wondered if that was wise. She exchanged looks with Legolas and Aragorn—Gimli was currently busy with a mug of ale in his hand—and saw they noted the same thing.

Realizing the King of Rohan doubted his new advisor's suggestions, added Aragorn, "You have two thousand good Men riding north as we speak. Éomer is loyal to you. He will return to fight for his king."

Rising restlessly from his throne, exclaimed Théoden, "They will be three hundred leagues from here by now!" Glancing across his throne room, he then said, "Éomer cannot help us… I know what it is you want of me, but I will not risk further death of my people. I will not risk open war."

Aragorn's eyes narrowed. He took the pipe out of his mouth and said truthfully, though rather rashly, "Open war is upon you, whether you would risk it or not."

Théoden stopped pacing and faced Aragorn. Avalain sensed the danger and put a hand on his arm. "The last I looked, Théoden, not Aragorn, was King of Rohan," said Théoden with a glare.

After an uneasy moment, asked Gandalf, "And what is the King's decision?"

Avalain was certain of his answer even before it exited his mouth. As he spoke, the lines in his face seemed to deepen. "We must relocate to Helm's Deep."

"Helm's Deep!" scoffed Gimli in disgust as he, Avalain, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gandalf made their way to the stables. According to the wizard, there was important business he had to tend to; he would therefore be leaving the others in the custody of Rohan's people. "They flee to the mountains when they _**should **_stand and fight! Who will defend them if not their king?"

"He's only doing what he thinks is right for his people," pointed out Aragorn calmly as they strode past the horses. "Helm's Deep _**has **_saved them in the past."

Replied Gandalf, "There is no way out of that ravine. Théoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he's leading them to safety… what they will get is a massacre. Théoden has a strong will, but I fear for him. I fear for the survival of Rohan. He will need you before the end, Aragorn. The people of Rohan will need you. The defenses have to hold."

"They will hold," said Aragorn, looking the wizard in the eye.

Gandalf passed through the gate parting him and Shadowfax. Petting his horse gently, said he, "The Gray Pilgrim. That was what they used to call me… three hundred lives of Men I've walked this earth, and now I have no time…" he seemed amused, as if it were too blasphemous to be true. "With luck, my search will not be in vain. Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the east."

Though Avalain and Aragorn did not know what he spoke of, they knew that wizards—like Elves—were cryptic about the future. So Aragorn only said, "Go," while holding the gate open for Gandalf.

Gandalf bolted out of the stables. The others watched him go, hoping that the wizard would harness a force strong enough to rival Saruman's ambitious goals.

Once she returned to the palace, Avalain headed to the room where Théodred remained. She smiled faintly as she entered, seeing that he was awake and rather resolute to free himself of the entangling sheets.

"Be careful," said she, holding a hand out to stop him. "Let me help you."

She assumed she was allowed to disentangle the white sheets from around his legs. She was about to ask of his well-being, but Théodred spoke first. "I saw you. Earlier."

"Truly?" asked Avalain with surprise. "What with your family surrounding you—as they very well should—I did not think you would find me in the doorway."

"No. Earlier than this morning," he responded, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I had flashes of consciousness. You were in quite a few of them. At first, I had believed I was dreaming. Yet now that I see you, I realize… you were the one to have healed me."

Instinctively Avalain looked down at her bracelet and clasped her other hand over the pendant of her necklace, the two places she stored her extra energy. Her lips curling into a smile, said she, "Yes. It was I."

"Thank-you," replied Théodred after a silence. "During my previous battle, I had thought it to be my last."

Avalain faced the Prince of Rohan again. "I thought the same but a week ago. It was your cousin to have saved me—Éomer. There is always someone left to help, Théodred. It's true any battle can be your last, but not as long as there is someone else by your side."

He pondered her words before giving her a grateful smile. Knowing that she had to break the news, however, Avalain sighed. "I am sorry to burden you, Théodred, but the people of Edoras have been ordered to move to Helm's Deep. Saruman intends to strike, and your father wishes to evacuate."

Nodding, said Théodred, "Of course. My men and I have been expecting this for some time… I shall have to rally them." But at the look on Avalain's face, he trailed off. He came to his own conclusions. "No one else survived the battle by the River Isen."

Avalain nodded gravely, turning back to the window. "I am sorry."

She heard a sigh. And then said the prince, "In that case, I have no other duty than to aid my people out of the city. Am I able to do as such?"

Again the Elvish princess faced him. Glimpsing the light burning from her bracelet, Avalain said, "At least let me put one last spell on you. It shall give you a prolonged sense of strength and resistance to fatigue. It should last a few days."

Kneeling to be level with the prince, she placed one thumb over his forehead and the other over his heart. Taking a deep breath, she thought of the incantations and spoke them aloud—a glow emitted underneath her fingertips. Knowing her work was finished, she sighed and looked up to find the Prince of Rohan staring with intrigue somewhere over the top of her head.

Then said he, "I did not realize you bear the fortune of both Elves and Mortals."

Avalain cocked her head sideways, confused until he implied, "Your pin. It bears the mark of goodwill from Gondor and from the Elvish Cities—mostly Rivendell, I suspect. Forgive me," he added hastily, seeing her surprise, "I do not know the trademarks of Elves as well as my own kin."

"Oh—no," gasped she. In truth, Avalain had all but forgotten the pin was in her hair. Reaching a hand up, she withdrew it from the safe nestle in her hair. Holding it in her palms, she allowed herself to gaze upon the white, silver, and gold design of tree and star. "I… it is much more than a symbol of well-being, my lord."

"You do not have to call me as such. I simply noticed it and was surprised," he said, but respecting Avalain's privacy he did not inquire what else it stood for. He knew, however, that it must've been a talisman of some sort by the way she looked at it—with genuine affection. His curiosity soon got the better of him. "Who gave it to you?"

"A friend," she replied breathlessly, not taking her eyes of the possession. The pin sparkled as she looked at it, and she gained a rush of joy…

"Where is this friend?"

Her face crumpled. "Dead."

Immediately Théodred knew that was too much to ask. "I am sorry."

"No, no," she said quickly. "This pin does not subject me to despair. Not anymore. Now it is a reminder of pleasant memories when all was not so dark, and love was a practice commonly seen." She looked out the window wistfully for a spare second… "I must go and aid my friends in preparing for the journey to Helm's Deep."

The prince agreed, and together, they set out for the city of Edoras, where people could be seen preparing.


	14. Chapter 14

In three days' time, the citizens of Edoras trudged out of their hometown. Women and children accompanied the Men—the elderly were brought in wagons that others could pull down the path, as were babies who could not yet toddle at their mother's sides.

It was a painstakingly slow journey. The path to Helm's Deep was a four day march, however, so it would not be as heinous as many were ready to believe.

Avalain walked alongside the horse Aragorn rode. She did not wish to trot at a slow speed, so she walked instead. Gimli, Éowyn, and Théoden King came alongside them. Théodred could sometimes be found at his father's side, but other times he would help those who needed it on their journey.

Noticing their stupor, Gimli began speaking to the lady Éowyn about his kindred. Knowing Gimli, he soon began speaking in a jesting manner when it came to the counterpart of his kin. "It's true you don't see many Dwarf women," he said pleasantly. "In fact, we are so in like in voice and appearance that they're often mistaken for Dwarf men!"

Éowyn and Avalain restrained smiles. By this time, Éowyn and Avalain had become friends, and they exchanged looks upon hearing this. Avalain had met and befriended a Dwarf lady before—a rather beautiful one named Kira Nightengale—so she knew Gimli was only joking.

But though the Elvish princess said one thing, when Éowyn turned back to Aragorn for his input, Aragorn refrained from smiling himself and gestured to his chin, whispering, "It's the beards."

Avalain restrained a very un-ladylike snort as Éowyn grinned.

Gimli did not notice this exchange, and he continued on heartily. "And this has led to the belief that there _**are**_ no Dwarf women! And that Dwarves just… spring up from holes in the ground!"

With this last, Éowyn and Avalain alike burst into laughter. His goal accomplished, the Dwarf laughed too and added gruffly, "Which is of course ridiculous! Whoa—ah!"

This last was because Gimli's horse had suddenly reared and sped forward. The horse and his passenger ran about ten feet before the Dwarf fell off the back of the steed and hit the ground.

As Éowyn gasped and rushed forward to help Gimli, Avalain and Aragorn remained behind, still laughing at the ridiculousness of their friend. They knew that he would simply refuse to be aided anyway—they were proven right upon hearing his grouchy, "I'm all right, nobody panic! That was deliberate, it was deliberate…"

Avalain knew Gimli would be quite all right and was therefore not distressed. As she walked alongside Aragorn, her eyes began to drop since she had received a sleepless night. For some reason, all throughout the previous night she could not close her eyes without seeing a light shade of green.

Aragorn saw her fatigue and said, "Rest, Avalain. Take my horse."

Grateful, Avalain did so without complaint. Seating herself on the horse, she almost instantly nodded off.

_"Look, Mr. Frodo! An Oliphaunt!" exclaimed a familiar voice. Avalain glanced around to see fuzzy plains. Hordes of men were crossing below three figures upon the ground._

_ The Elvish girl could not keep back a grin realizing that the voice was none other than Samwise Gamgee's, and that he was talking to Frodo Baggins. Though she tried to call out their names, they could not hear her. "No one at home will believe this…"_

_ Avalain surveyed her surroundings; crouched below her were Frodo and Sam. Beside them lay Gollum, looking extremely uneasy. Avalain could not help wondering how they had managed to ensnare the dreadful creature, but her mind was taken elsewhere when she heard a strange call through some bushes below her._

_ The hobbits seemed to notice something off about it, too. Though it resembled that of a bird, a chill ran down their spines. For a moment all was silent—and then arrows began to rain down on the wicked men in the valley. _

_ Oliphaunts reared as the arrows pierced their tough hides. Avalain could faintly see the silhouettes of Men being thrown from the creatures' backs. As she looked on, Men of Gondor charged the legions of the Haradrim. _

_ "Come on, Sam," said Frodo at last. "We've lingered here too long." He darted up from behind his concealment and began sprinting away, but his companion was still fascinated with the sight before him._

_ As Frodo turned to leave, he ran straight into another man._

_ Sam finally realized the danger. "HEY!" he shouted, fumbling with the sword at his belt. He began to charge the man holding Frodo captive but was surprised by another who was hiding in a nearby bush._

_ Avalain cried out. She reached out to grab one of the Men, but her hands simply passed through his skin._

I understand now, _Avalain thought. _I am having a vision…

_ In that moment, Sam cried out, "Wait! We're innocent travelers!"_

_ Another figure wearing a green cloak appeared. Strapped to his back was a bow and a quiver of arrows; the White Tree of Gondor was on the armor he wore. "There are no travelers here. Only servants of the Dark Tower." _

_ Avalain's heart leapt to hear that Faramir was alive. On the spare moments that the Fellowship had not been in danger, she consistently pondered over the fates of those she could not see. Her relief was great to find her friend before her, if just in vision… _

_ "We are on an errand of secrecy," pleaded Frodo. "Those who claim to oppose the enemy would do well not to hinder us!"_

_ "The enemy?" asked Faramir, turning to a body that had collapsed from an Oliphaunt. It was not six feet away from where Avalain was standing—Faramir brushed past her to get to him. Carefully, Faramir turned the Man over with his foot and said, "His sense of duty was no less than yours, I deem. You wonder what his name is… where he came from. And if he was really evil at heart. What lies or threats led him from this long march from home. If he would not rather have stayed there… in peace. War will make corpses of us all."_

_ Throughout his explanation, Faramir's eyes had been on the Man. But then he turned back to the hobbits and said, to Avalain's dismay, "Bind their hands."_

_ Sam was wrestled to his feet, and a blindfold was placed over Frodo's eyes. Then a bright light seared through Avalain's vision and _she saw only a flash of light green before falling _back into sleep._

"They're in trouble," Avalain gasped upon waking. After her dream had ended, she had not, like she hoped, awakened straight afterward, but fallen into the void instead. Her fatigue had gotten the better of her.

Legolas and Eleanor were riding beside her at this time. They each gave her confused looks. "What do you mean, Avalain?" asked Legolas.

"Frodo and Sam. They're in trouble. Faramir—does not know—took them captive," she gasped, not even bothering to silence herself with Eleanor's presence. "I must find Aragorn." Without waiting to hear Legolas's protests, she leapt off the horse and rushed off to find him.

"Avalain!" called Legolas, but she paid him no mind, rushing in between horses and people of Rohan, shouting Aragorn's name.

It took a while to locate him—he was with Éowyn. He looked a little distressed, but Avalain barreled up to him all the same.

"Avalain!" Aragorn exclaimed as she raced up towards him. "What happened?"

"I just had a vision," she gasped. "Frodo and Sam have been taken captive by Faramir—he does not know what is going on—but they're alive," she added to his astonished expression. "They are in Ithilien as we speak."

Aragorn froze before a grin came out over his face. "That is good news," he said lowly, taking Avalain's hand. "Perhaps things shall turn for the better."

The princess nodded… she wondered if Frodo would summon her. She was quite sure she had mentioned Faramir during their travels, when the Fellowship was whole and unbroken.

More hours flew past in which the citizens of Rohan traipsed to Helm's Deep. Avalain's mind, however, was not on the lethargy of the journey; it was on her dear hobbits and her dear friend. She wondered what they were speaking of—would Faramir keep them imprisoned? So many questions racked her brain that she simply wished to fall back to sleep so she might see more.

A full day passed with this torment. It took Avalain two hours to fall asleep the due to the green lights behind her eyes, but her sleep had been without dreams, much to her frustration.

To add to it, though Éowyn seemed to understand that Aragorn already had a relationship with Avalain's sister, Eleanor was continually bothering Avalain, what with her irritatingly constant appearances with Legolas. Being his best friend, Avalain was not sure whether Eleanor was trustworthy or even quite deserving of him. She was still not fond of the king's daughter, though she was steadily becoming good friends with his son.

But her vision would take her mind off of such things… for a time.

The following morning, the citizens of Rohan were still steadily making their way towards Helm's Deep. Nothing was occurring, Avalain realized drearily. She looked around to see Aragorn practically asleep upon his horse, and Théodred was speaking with his sister.

Avalain huffed. For once, the princess of Rohan was not flirting with her dear friend.

That was when it started; a certain tingling in her skin. Avalain blinked. Was it her imagination? No… it steadily drew fiercer.

When Aragorn attempted to pry his eyes open, he nearly jumped out of his skin. "Avalain!" he cried. "You're disappearing!"

In that moment, Avalain understood she was being summoned. Smiling, she said, "Expect me tomorrow morning. I am being summoned at last."

Aragorn nodded and smiled as well. It took another ten seconds for Avalain's vision to dissolve the current scene and form a new one—one with rocky walls and many people. Everything was blurred at first, and it seemed Avalain was in two places at once. She was nothing more than a hologram for a fleeting moment, and then she was in a cave.

Three voices then cried out—

"Avalain!"

_ "Avalain!"_

_**"Avalain?!"**_

__Avalain blinked to adjust to the darkness of the cave. She rubbed her eyes before looking at what was in front of her. A smile flooded her face seeing Frodo and Sam just three feet away, clear as day.

"Oh, Frodo! Sam!" she gasped, throwing herself to her knees and enveloping the two hobbits into an embrace. She heard their laughter and felt their arms around her, and at last when they broke away, said the She-Elf, "We have been so worried about you, my dear hobbits. I should very much like to tell everyone where you are—"

The Elvish princess looked up to see the astonished face of her friend. Breaking into yet another uncontrollable smile, gasped she, "Faramir!"

The hobbits released her, and Avalain upright herself. Paying no attention to the dust and gravel on her dress, she took one of his hands at his sides and grasped it firmly. "I have missed you, my friend."

Faramir smiled, and, though he was still more than shocked to see Avalain Nightshade summoned through nothing more than air, replied, "It is good to see you as well. A few years have passed, have they not?"

Avalain continued smiling. "Too many, if I recall correctly." Without any other words, she wrapped her arms around him, very glad to discover that her vision had been true; all three were still alive and well. But if that was the case… why had she been summoned?

Pulling away after a moment, she smiled and then glanced at the hobbits. "My dear ones, why have I been called?"

The hobbits exchanged glances before finally responding, "We have had a… er… disagreement, Avalain," explained Sam. "You see, the Men here are to ride for Osgiliath in the morning, to provide reinforcements since their city is being sieged. They wish to bring us with them as captives."

The smile on Avalain's face fell. Glancing up at Faramir, she shook her head. "They are to be trusted, Faramir. I do not know if you are aware of why they are here, but Frodo and Sam have a great purpose. They are not to be detained."

Faramir smiled, though it was thin. "Oh, I understand," murmured he lowly. "The Ring of Power is here. Within my grasp."

Avalain's eyes widened with dismay. He could not know—would he be driven with lust for the Ring? But as she watched him, hope festered in her heart. His eyes showed no sign of love or terrible longing for the accursed object.

At last, Faramir sighed and removed his hand from the sword hilt at his belt. "Very well. They are to be released into Ithilien tomorrow morning, though my father will most certainly not be pleased. I have already informed him," he added to Avalain's look of puzzlement, "that 'Faramir sends a mighty gift.' It is a phrase he used to describe what he wished for Boromir to do with the Ring of Power—bring it back to Gondor as a gift. It would've been used against Mordor… or so he said." He finished with a humorless laugh.

Avalain was not comforted. She knew that the Lord Denethor was power hungry, and very much so. "How will you fare from these words?" whispered she.

Her response was a small smile. "Life shall not have changed for me."

"And yet, is that glad tidings or not?" persisted Avalain. She wished to be sure that her friend would be safe. There were a few rumors she had picked up on the Lord Denethor, and a large majority of them were terrible.

"Honestly, Avalain," sighed he after a pause, "they are not. But nothing shall change."

As the Elf and the Man conversed, the hobbits watched curiously. They collected that the two had been good friends for some time, and that they cared very much about the other. But the talk of the Ring unnerved them—they dared to think, _If Faramir's life is in the balance, will the Ring be turned over?_

Almost as if to console them, Faramir turned back to Frodo and Sam. "You shall be released tomorrow with what food rations we can spare. Perhaps we may also aid you with other supplies."

The tension in the air dissipated. Without any verbal consent, they disbanded. Sam walked over to regain the sleep he had lost while Avalain and Frodo traveled outside together to talk about their journeys as Faramir rejoined the Men to create battle plans and assign positions for the following morning.

When Avalain and Frodo were at last alone, Avalain asked in hushed tones, "What _**has **_happened, dear hobbit? I assume there is much that you have to tell me, as I have much to tell you."

And Frodo proceeded explaining. "After I left, Sam managed to catch me before I was too far off the shore. Since then, we have been struggling over the rocks of Emyn Muíl, the labyrinth Gimli spoke of. I realized, however, that Sam and I were not alone. So we planned a trap for whoever was following.

"It turned out to be Gollum. We heard him speaking to himself one night, while we were pretending to be asleep. We caught him by surprise and eventually overcame him. It was obvious he was after the Ring, so we tied him up with the Elvish rope Lady Galadriel gave Sam. It must have burned Gollum, though, because he kept shrieking and pleading for us to take it off him.

"Eventually we made a deal; we would remove the rope if he led us to the Black Gate. And so he brought us out of Emyn Muíl, across the Dead Marshes, and to the Gate. But when Sam and I tried to get through the gates, Gollum pulled us back, informing us of another secret way to get inside Mordor."

At this point in the story, Avalain let out a sharp gasp. She had heard rumors of the secret passageway into Mordor… a darkness dwelled there. None who ventured there ever returned, unless they were in service of the Eye. And sometimes, not even then.

"Continue," she murmured, waving her hand since Frodo had stopped.

"We backtracked for a while, walking around the edges of the mountains. Two days after our departure from the Black Gate, Sam, Sméagol and I witnessed Wicked Men from the South crossing Ithilien. But even as we watched, Soldiers of Gondor ambushed them and took them all down. That was when we were captured by Faramir. And once he found out about the Ring, I knew I had to contact you. I remembered his name from you."

This made Avalain smile. She was very glad she had mentioned Faramir's name to Frodo, or who knew what would've happened. Her head was swimming with the relatively descriptive overview of Frodo's and Sam's journeys…

"It seemed, Avalain," said Frodo thoughtfully, "that when I spoke of the second pathway into Mordor, you were worried."

Slowly, she nodded. "Yes, dear one. I have heard rumors of a dark power thriving at the entrance of said pathway. It is a dark place, and I've heard only servants of the Eye come out alive… sometimes, they still do not. Either this power is merciless or monstrous; I do not like the idea of you crossing this beast."

Frodo paled, causing Avalain to wonder if maybe it she should have remained silent. But then, disintegrating her fears, he replied, "I have Sméagol and Sam with me. I shall not be alone. And there is no other choice. If we had charged the Black Gate, we would've been caught. This is the only way."

The resolution in his voice unhinged Avalain. But it also made her proud. Because Frodo was accepting the possibility of his death, but also putting responsibility over himself, proved that he was indeed the Ring-Bearer.

"Then be very careful, Frodo," sighed Avalain worriedly. "I cannot help you more than give you this." She withdrew a dagger and a satchel of lembas mixed with berries and nuts. "This may not last long, but every bit helps, does it not?"

Frodo laughed a little and nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Avalain."

She kissed his forehead affectionately before patting his cheek and turning towards Samwise, who was sleeping. She pulled out another dagger from her dress and placed it beside him. "This shall do you well, my stouthearted hobbit. It is impossible to lose or misplace. It shall find its way back to you—as I have no doubt you shall find your way back to me."

With that, Avalain knelt and kissed his sleeping forehead. She convinced Frodo soon thereafter to regain sleep as well, and almost immediately after he lay down, his eyes closed and his breathing deepened.

For a while, she sat and watched over the hobbits she had come to know as sons. The sun continued to rise. She smiled sadly, knowing that her time was limited, and that she would return to the people of Rohan within another twenty hours or so. She would be leaving Frodo and Sam, and she would be subject to her ignorance of Faramir's fate—

"Avalain."

She glanced upward to see Faramir standing over her, a small smile upon his face. "Surely you are not here to stay," he stated, almost as if he had read her mind.

"No. I have until tomorrow morning. Then I shall return to the paths to Helm's Deep. Théoden's people are retreating behind those walls."

Faramir nodded slowly. "So we have heard." There was a dull roar of the Men creating battle plans and sharpening weapons. Finally, said he, "While the hobbits are asleep, I do believe we should exchange more information?"

"Very well," said Avalain, self-consciously smoothing the wrinkles in her dress. "Théoden's people are retreating to Helm's Deep. My own kin are leaving the shores, though I believe my father may send aid to Rohan. We have heard no word of the Dwarves. I suspect that if they were to help, they would travel to Gondor—"

"I didn't necessarily mean war information, Avalain," said Faramir lightly, a smile tugging at his mouth.

Baffled, asked Avalain, "Then what did you mean by?"

"How you are. How the others are. What has happened since last I saw you."

Avalain, relieved to not have to talk about war for once, smiled again. "We are fine—Aragorn, the Dwarf Gimli, two other hobbits, Gandalf, Legolas… we are still in one piece."

"What is that in your hand?" asked Faramir, glancing down at what Avalain was twirling inside her palm. She had not realized she was doing it until that moment, and when she saw what it was, her heart wrenched.

"A pin," said she quietly. It was the very pin Boromir had given her before his death. She realized then that twirling it between her fingers had become a nervous habit.

Thoughtfully, said Faramir, "It was not in your possession last I saw you."

Hollowly, Avalain shook her head. "It was a gift given not too long ago."

He heard her voice filled with the remnants of grief. He saw the look in her eyes and then said, to her surprise, "It was a gift from my brother, was it not."

"How did you—" gasped Avalain.

"For one, it is the design of the White Tree and the Everlasting Star melded together," he answered calmly. "Secondly, I see the look in your eyes. I've only seen it once before—when you believed you had lost Legolas."

A silence followed until she sighed, "Yes. This was a gift from him."

Another moment of quiet overtook them until at last, questioned Faramir, "What happened to my brother, Avalain? You are the only one who can say, and I shall not be able to rest until I know the truth."

Avalain was not sure she would be able to tell the story without painful memories surfacing to her mind. It took a few moments for her to gather her courage to say, "Very well.

"We had left the City of Lothlórien. After receiving help from the Elves there, the Fellowship's purpose was to cross Emyn Muíl and walk through the marshlands to the Black Gate. But before we could canoe to the eastern shore from the Falls of Rauros, disaster struck from within the Fellowship.

"The Ring had been festering in all our hearts. We hadn't noticed, based on the level of strength and resilience we each pertained against it. Boromir was the first to succumb. When Frodo left for solace, Boromir followed him and, as I take it, was brainwashed to attempt to steal it from him. Frodo resisted and won—he slipped away.

"I do not know what happened to the others, but when I discovered what Frodo was trying to do, which was slip past us and continue to the Black Gate alone, I caught him. He offered me the Ring…" Here, Avalain heard a sharp intake from Faramir, "but I resisted it. I had only time to give him the jewel that he used to summon me before he rushed off. Not two minutes later Sam burst into the very brush I was in. I gave him a dagger and a swift goodbye before letting him run after Frodo…

"The sounds of battle sounded then. I heard metal clashing to the east, but the horn of Gondor sounded to the west. I froze, torn by indecision and love for each side. Eventually, I ran to the west.

"I arrived in time to see the other two hobbits and Boromir battling a fierce onslaught of Uruk-hai. I quickly joined the fray, but the beasts were fearsome. I was injured a few times—Boromir tried to protect me. But then, when we could do nothing about it, the leader of the enemy shot an arrow into his shoulder."

Avalain paused and swallowed. She didn't dare look at Faramir's face.

"He went down to the ground, but he was far from dead. Far from it. He rose and continued fighting. Seeing his resolve, the hobbits and I attempted to do the same. But he was shot by another arrow, this time in his stomach."

Before she could be stopped by her own despair, Avalain continued. "He still fought. He killed at least three more Uruk-hai before the third arrow was embedded next to his heart. The hobbits charged the Uruk-hai in resistance, but they were easily overcome. I attempted to bring Boromir into the thickets, where I planned to use my energy to heal him.

"But he stopped me. I hardly had any energy left. He claimed it wouldn't work. He wouldn't allow me to try and save him. And so he gave me this pin and asked me to remain happy, for him. For his memory. So I will."

Avalain ceased speaking and realized tears were slipping down her cheeks. She tasted the salt on her lips and ferociously wiped the tears away, ashamed that she was still sorrowful when Boromir's spirit was living in the Gray Havens. She knew he was better off in Valinor than in Middle-Earth, which had become no more than a living hell of battlefields and fear.

For a minute, all was silent. Finally, said Faramir, "Thank-you for telling me, Avalain."

With that, he rose and sighed. "I suppose that's it, then. He died a noble death, saving you and the other two hobbits. Even so, now there are only a few Captains of Gondor left." He shook his head as if to add, _And I'm one of them._

"They are strong," said Avalain, thinking of the way Faramir had refused the Ring's seductive power.

He laughed shortly, as if he did not believe her. All the same, Faramir smiled genuinely as he suggested, "To take your mind off war and souls that are in better places now, I suppose we should discuss other things."

"Such as?" asked Avalain.

There was a slight pause before Faramir answered. "Well, Avalain, as you know, we are in Ithilien, very close to the borders of Mordor. Seeing as this forest could very well be destroyed at any time the Eye commands, I believe I should show you the woods and their beauty—or at least, what's left of it."

Almost instantly, Avalain brightened. She had longed to see the beauty of the Wood of Ithilien for many long years, but the opportunity had never come, seeing as Sauron had invaded Mordor years back.

"Of course," said she thickly. But she vowed not to be sorrowful any longer. Dwelling on the past did no good. She replaced the pin back in its usual spot in her hair before taking Faramir's outstretched hand and rising to her feet.

As she passed other Men, Avalain saw them poring over maps and grabbing weapons off the walls. She heard the dim sound of rushing water nearby and figured there was a waterfall outside. The place was lively, but not in spirit. Even so, there was an increase in smiles when she walked past. Avalain wondered why that was—until she realized she must've met at least a few of these Men a while back. Hadn't she?

Once they were outside, Avalain gasped. She had not expected to see the green leaves so lush, not this early in spring. It was barely March; yet the trees were as full and beautiful as they would've been in June. The faded paths were surrounded with white wildflowers and clovers. Here and there were statues glorifying the kings of old; though, noted Avalain sadly, Orcs had desecrated those statues by beheading them or scribbling over them with paint. But otherwise…

"It's beautiful," said she at last. Avalain glanced over to see that Faramir was watching her face—she hoped it hadn't been ridiculous or anything of the sort.

"I had hoped you would say that," was the reply. He gently took her hand to lead her down the pathway, further into the woods.

As they walked, Avalain noted that the sound of rushing water drew nearer. Before she could ask questions, said Faramir, as if he had again been reading her mind, "The waterfall leads to the Forbidden Pool. We do not speak much of it—to enter it bears the penalty of death. It is, however, a good place for one to forget the world."

Avalain noted his tone. "That is something you do much lately, isn't it?"

Now it was he who smiled. "Yes, it is."

Faramir led her off the path, a ways into forest where the grass grew wild. Puzzled, asked Avalain, "Is not the path the other way?" But she didn't mind—she knew that Faramir knew the woods well.

"It is," replied he, "but there is something else I believe you will enjoy."

Avalain allowed herself to be led through the large trees. She could not help but admire the Mortal country, for it was as beautiful as Lothlórien or even her own city of Rivendell, in which she held great pride. Perhaps, thought she sadly, it was because the trees reminded her of her home. It had been six months since she left.

Then again, thought Avalain with a smile, she did not regret leaving at all.

Another minute later, there was a sudden stop of the trees. It took a second for her to realize she had been led into a clearing; she could see the lovely powder-blue sky… It was much nicer than she had become accustomed to.

"This is wonderful," whispered she, a smile spreading across her face. She looked down to see blue and red flowers—yet they were not just flowers. They were roses. She said the next words with certainty. "This is where you go whenever you need a break from the world."

"Yes," responded Faramir, "it is a good place for the mind to wander."

Avalain nodded and, seized by a sudden desire to know, blurted out, "How are you, at any rate? Are you well?"

She heard a sigh before a somewhat reluctant, "I've been better. But everything has its ups and downs."

Now it was Avalain who paused. "Yes, that is true. I should be able to relate," added she with a laugh, "seeing as I understand what you are going through, and I have been doing so for a while now." She glanced down again—the grass below looked like a lovely, inviting pillow.

Almost as if he had read her mind—yet again—said Faramir with a smile, "You are weary, Avalain. You have been through much. You deserve rest."

"So do you," she pointed out. "More so than I do, I daresay. You command an army."

He laughed, a sound filled with slight bitterness. "True, but an army that has decreased in size. Whereas _**you**_sacrifice your own energy for the good of healing others. I do believe we are equal in our deservingness for rest."

Avalain smirked. "Finally, something we can agree on." Without further argument, she lay down contentedly. It seemed even as she watched, the sky grew darker. She spoke this aloud.

Faramir turned his head to look at her seriously. "The change is most notable here," said he sadly. "Each day, the sky contains more black than blue. It's hard to tell evening from night nowadays. I daresay you'll be able to see this for yourself tonight."

The next hour was spent with the two conversing. Avalain felt at peace, as if the world's cares had been left at the borders of the forest, and she was free. Free from responsibility and worry—free to be herself. Avalain noticed this when she laughed… she had not laughed in a little while. But of course, her friend was able to coax it from her within only a few moments.

Avalain was at such peace and joy with Faramir that she was much too excited to fall asleep as she had originally felt like doing. Instead, they walked through the forest for another half hour before realizing they should be heading back, since the Men would seal the entrance of their base at nightfall.

They barely made it back on time. The sun had almost finished setting; the gates were literally closing before Faramir held up a hand so he and Avalain could rush into the caves. It caused laughter once they were inside, and they saw the amused grins of the Men as they walked back to the hobbits, who instantly demanded to know how everyone was back in Rohan.

Dinner that night was a very enjoyable affair for Avalain; she met many more Men, conversed with her beloved hobbits, and was able to simply be comforted that Faramir was alive, sitting in front of her. There was so much to be grateful for, thought Avalain, that she wished the charm on the jewel she'd given Frodo would last longer.

The Men, who all agreed that Avalain was beautiful—and that she was most certainly out of the question—inquired how Théoden's people were faring. And so Avalain told them, and though it was slightly tedious to be repeating things for the third time, the spirits of the Men were very high afterward.

Once night had long since fallen, Avalain decided to walk with the hobbits for a while. After all, Frodo _**had**_been the one conserving his energy to see her. She spent the next few hours with him and Sam, each of them talking and reliving past memories. In her high spirits, she even decided to test their skills with swordplay, something she had not done with either Merry or Pippin since Boromir's death.

A sharp pang hit Avalain when Faramir joined her—but it was not a pang of sadness. More of a bittersweet joy.

Once, however, it became clear that Frodo and Sam had indeed been practicing, and once Avalain ceased teaching them new moves they might need to know, the training stopped. Avalain promised the hobbits that, if they wished, they would resume before the morning the following day. Much to her penchant, they immediately agreed.

Something then passed over Avalain's mind—something that she'd almost forgotten would be new information to Frodo and Sam.

Smiling, said the princess, "You're doing very well, Frodo. Gandalf will be proud when he sees what you have accomplished."

Frodo looked at her confusedly. Pain was in his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Avalain, with a large smile upon her face, said, "I mean, my dear Frodo, that Gandalf will be very proud when he sees you, what you've accomplished, what you have yet to do. I have nearly forgotten to tell you… he's alive, Frodo."

Sam and Frodo shot up and began clamoring for Avalain to enlighten them—they _**saw**_Gandalf fall in Moria, how is it that he has returned—

And so the Elf girl proceeded to tell them the full tale of what had happened since they parted ways; Avalain welcomed a few Men who wished to hear her story. She could not help but notice Faramir leaning against the wall, listening intently as she spoke of the Riders of Rohan and how they'd given her the distraction she needed to free Merry and Pippin from the Uruk-hai, as she spoke about Fangorn Forest, and Gandalf releasing King Théoden from the spell of Saruman, about her saving Théodred, and how two children had arrived and told the King and Ladies of Rohan about the Uruk-hai that were destroying Rohan. She also included the portion about how she had dreamt of Faramir taking Frodo and Sam captive, which startled her listeners, including Faramir himself.

She ended her tale with, "We were all on the path to Helm's Deep when I felt I was being summoned by you, Frodo. And now, I am here."

There was a silence once she finished. It took a while for the Men to realize they should return to their posts and duties. Each of them left with the satisfaction of knowing exactly what this princess had been through. Many agreed that what she had accomplished was very impressive. They walked off with smiles upon their faces.

The hobbits were grinning most of all. Even as Avalain bade them goodnight, Frodo was still smiling profusely. "I cannot believe Gandalf is alive…" He especially had been very glad to hear that the Gray Wizard was alive, and was now the White Wizard.

Sam, who was still practicing jabs with his dagger, was also very glad. But Avalain could tell that he knew what the downside was; even though Gandalf was alive, there was nothing the wizard could do to help them.

"Goodnight, Sam," whispered Avalain, kissing his forehead. She was about to walk away when she heard him say her name once more.

She turned around. "Yes, Sam?"

"Merry and Pippin _**are**_safe, aren't they? Do you know happened to them?"

Avalain beamed. She had an idea of where they were. And so she knelt back beside him and said, "You do remember the tales of the trees, Sam? Do you know that it is spoken the trees are alive, that they have spirits of their own? Those are not tales. They are truth—the Elves awakened the trees long ago. Ents, Tree-Guardians, linger in the forests of Middle-Earth. I know a number of them, as does Gandalf. I daresay Merry and Pippin are being kept safe in the custody of the Ents… I do believe they shall be returned to Aragorn, Gandalf, and I before long."

Samwise was comforted by her answer, and at last he laid down for rest. Avalain smiled and kissed his forehead once again before rising and turning around—Faramir was again listening not too far away.

"Are you so interested in old myths that you linger to hear them?" bantered Avalain, a smile upon her face.

"I am interested to hear what has been happening with you," he answered, the same smile reflected back at her. "I have been worried about you."

Avalain smiled despite the pain she felt. It was as if her chest was compressing. It was a very strange feeling, something she didn't recollect feeling before. She decided she needed rest before long. "I have been worried about you as well. I should think your journeys have been more perilous than mine."

"Not of late they haven't been," replied Faramir. He glanced past Avalain to see the sleeping hobbits. "Come." He gestured to a ledge outside of the caves. "Let us go somewhere else for a while."

As the rushing of the waterfall drew nearer and the hobbits were left farther away, asked Avalain, "What do you wish to speak to me about?"

Faramir glanced at her sideways. "I don't know what you mean."

Avalain giggled. "You would not have asked me to come out here if you did not wish to speak without other ears listening."

"Perhaps," replied he nonchalantly. A smile tugged at his lips. "Or perhaps I simply wanted you to see the stars." He pointed upward. "They are slowly growing fainter… but they have not disappeared. Not yet."

Hearing this, Avalain's eyes flitted upward. She smiled seeing that the stars were indeed present, even if their light was not at their usual radiance. For a moment, there was silence as they inspected the sky. But finally, Faramir broke it. "Well, in this case, you were right. I do wish to speak to you about… something important."

Without turning to look at him, said Avalain, "My ears are open. I'm willing to listen to anything you desire to say."

She did not see the mixed look of relief and dismay upon Faramir's face. "I'm worried about you, Avalain. I have heard your tale and seen your exhaustion. I believe there is more you haven't told me. And I know what that is—you are overexerting yourself. You think you can do all these things, Avalain, and you _**can… **_but what I am afraid of is that there shall soon come a day that you attempt something greater than you will be capable of, and that it shall overwhelm you. It almost happened right in front of my eyes three and a half years ago, and that is something I'll never forget."

Avalain finally forced her gaze off the stars to look at his face. She felt a pleasant buzzing to see that he had been looking at _**her. **_"You don't need to worry," said reassured him. "I know where to draw the line."

"Do you, though?" questioned Faramir. "You almost killed yourself to save Men. You've used wizard-magic to save Frodo when arriving at Rivendell—yes, I heard about that," said he quickly, seeing Avalain's shock. "Boromir sent a letter. It was the last I heard from him. He spoke of the meeting of Rivendell he was to have, and that he saw you again and had heard everything you were up to. And based on those past experiences, I'm afraid you _**don't **_know when to draw the line. You are completely and utterly loyal to those closest to you—you would die for them. And I'm simply asking you to not let that happen. Please."

For a moment, Avalain couldn't understand why Faramir sounded so upset. She hadn't perished before. Why was he still worried?

"Faramir, I've been all right all those times—"

"No, Avalain, you don't understand! I'm not worried about what you've _**done! **_I'm worried about what you've _**yet to do!**_" Avalain was shocked to hear Faramir's voice stricken with grief, as if she'd already died. "You don't understand what your decisions do to those who care about you! All I'm asking…" Suddenly, he sounded exhausted, "is that you be careful. For everyone, for yourself. For me. Just be careful."

It took a moment for Avalain to grasp what he was saying. The fact that he seemed genuinely concerned for her made her head spin. It was irritating—she was trying to listen to what he had to say—but she couldn't focus. Just the way he was gazing at her made her feel awkward.

When she finally deciphered his words, she nodded. "Yes, of course… I'll be careful. For you. I'll be careful."

The change over Faramir's face was instantaneous; it was relieved, doubtful, and something else that Avalain couldn't identify. There was a silence before he responded, "Thank you, Avalain. All I wish for is your safety and happiness."

"There is so much more to worry about," whispered Avalain. Her head pounded, though she suspected it was because she was exhausted. "Why do you worry about me?"

He smiled, almost regretfully. "Because I know you'll go to any length to protect those whom you love. I worry because in times like these… those lengths might become common."

"What if I was saving you?" asked Avalain. She was aware of the green lines and dots coming across her vision as she spoke. "What would you do?"

Now he smiled. "I would make sure to save _**you.**_"

Avalain was not expecting this. She stepped back once, unsure about what she'd just heard. Had she imagined it?

"You should go to sleep, Avalain."

She shook her head. "No," contradicted she. "No, I wish to stay here."

The smile grew amused. "Already your eyes are closing." And he was right. "I'll lead you back to the hobbits. You need your sleep."

Almost dependently, Avalain returned to where Frodo and Sam were both fast asleep. She was helped to lie down beside them. She said a lethargic thank you to her friend as he walked off—she was already asleep when he draped a blanket over her shoulders.

Sunlight streamed into the caves late the following morning. What with the days growing steadily darker, Avalain was not aware how late it was until Frodo woke her up. "Avalain, it's been almost twenty-four hours since you've arrived. At least come and have something to eat before you return!"

That caused her to rise. Knowing that her time was preciously limited, she shot up and rushed after Frodo to where the others were dining. She did not slow until she reached the table where Sam was sitting.

"Sam!" she exclaimed, placing a hand on his arm. He glanced up at her and smiled—that faded when she announced, "I shall be leaving soon."

His face fell, and he opened his mouth to say something. But before he could, the sound of wood scraping against stone entered Avalain's ears. Her gaze darted to Faramir, who had suddenly stood from the end of the table. "What supplies do you need?" asked he.

She shook her head. "I have everything I need. All I need is to say goodbye."

Sam and Frodo both watched her sadly. They would be sorry to see her go. "Goodbye, dear ones," she whispered. She pulled each into a tight embrace before letting them go.

Avalain smiled at Faramir, drawing daringly close. "Goodbye," murmured she. Her arms felt like lead—she couldn't lift them—

He placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled. But Avalain couldn't bear the thought of leaving without facing her fears, though why she was afraid she did not know…

She didn't remember doing it, but the next thing Avalain knew, her arms were around him. It took a long moment for her to realize his arms were around her back as well.

She almost grinned at her own silly thoughts. Why had she been afraid?

When she backed away from him, Avalain saw the same rueful smile upon his face as had been there the previous night, when they were talking. Was he still worried that she would put herself in danger?

"I'll come back." Avalain knew she was making a promise. She stepped back as another buzzing spread across her body.

Again, Avalain was suddenly stuck between two different destinations. The majority of her vision was brought to the caves in front of her, with Faramir and the hobbits smiling—but she also could see a field, and figures darting to and fro in front of her… what was going on?

The next thing she knew, a blade was driven through her heart from the fields.


	15. Chapter 15

Avalain gasped.

But the blade did not bring any feeling at all.

"_**NO!**_" shouted Faramir—his face had morphed into what Avalain could only assume was agony—Frodo and Sam were screaming her name—"_**AVALAIN!**_"—their little voices echoed around the stone cave—

And still, the blade brought no pain at all. The caves around her faded swiftly. The blade was removed from her holographic body—

"I'm all right!" she called out in relief.

But she was too late. The caves had faded; only the fields were around her now. Avalain's confusion transformed to desperation. She had to let Faramir and the hobbits know she was alive… she _**had **_to…

Another blade aimed for her body distracted her from her thoughts. Robotically, Avalain jumped over the attack. The sudden maneuver brought her from her thoughts and forced her to look around.

A full-scale battle had taken place. Orcs riding Wargs were charging Men on horses—numerous bodies lay upon the ground. It appeared the people of Rohan were near Helm's Deep, but Saruman's Warg-Riders had intercepted their path.

Avalain spotted a loose horse bucking and kicking at a Warg bearing two riders. She sprinted towards the creature and leapt onto the horse's back, quickly withdrawing two arrows and destroying the monsters. She bade the horse turn in a circle. Her gaze sought out Legolas or Gimli or Aragorn…

She spotted Legolas's fair hair in the midst of the fray. Gimli was trapped underneath a fallen Warg, but nobody was targeting him. He would survive. Avalain used her Elvish vision to detect where Aragorn was battling.

Another blade swung towards her, this time at her head. Avalain ducked and lashed out with her sword—the Orc, now decapitated, fell off the Warg, which went rogue at the loss of its master. It ran for the hills, following another of its kin.

For the second time, Avalain was forced to resort to her Elvish vision to locate Aragorn. He had been battling an Orc atop a particularly ferocious Warg before the sword had appeared—she spotted him quickly. His hand was stuck around the stirrup of the Warg's saddle. He had managed to stick his dagger into the Orc, it had fallen…

She screamed as the Warg toppled over the cliff, Aragorn still attached to its side.

_No. No. No._

Avalain lost all control. She suddenly felt as if she were a black hole herself, capable of obliterating all in her path. Though she did not know it, Avalain's eyes turned from amber to black. Her horse bolted in the direction she bade.

She charged the Orcs' ranks, her sword ready and waiting. An uncontrollable thirst of blood drove her to the middle of the pack, drove her to perform such a dangerous stunt. Faramir's words of being careful were lost in the blind fury that consumed her. Aragorn had fallen. Aragorn was _**dead.**_

__The next thing she knew, Legolas was screaming, "Avalain, that's _**enough!**_"

With a start, Avalain realized she had killed every last one of the beasts. She had proceeded to hewn their bodies further as they lay, sprawled, against the grass.

"No! No! Legolas, let go of me! Let me destroy them—they killed—" Avalain struggled mightily, but he refused to release her. She was reduced to sobs. "They k-killed Aragorn!" Her wails gave Legolas and Gimli pause. They could not believe it.

They decided to investigate for themselves.

At Avalain's instruction, they neared the cliff he'd fallen from. They passed the Orc that Aragorn had been battling before…

There was a raspy laugh from that very same Orc.

Gimli was upon it the fastest. Wielding his axe at its head, growled the Dwarf, "Tell me what happened and I will ease your passing."

_No, _thought Avalain. _Torture it. Mangle it. Let it feel pain before you kill it._

"He's dead!" gargled the Orc triumphantly. Its eyes were dimming. But there was still time to hurt him. "He took a little tumble off the cliff."

Legolas stared at the Orc. His eyes became blank. Bending down, he grabbed at the Orc's armor. "You lie," he growled.

But the Orc simply laughed. He laughed until his own blood choked him. The light in the beast's eyes faded, and he was suddenly and harshly still.

Now that it was dead, Legolas left Avalain's side to stare over the edge of the cliff. But he saw nothing. The river below held no sign that indicated Aragorn was nearby. Filled with grief, he returned to Avalain, who had knelt over the dead Orc and was glaring at it with hatred. An insatiable thirst for blood fell over her.

Legolas then noticed something the others didn't. In the Orc's hand was the jewel Arwen had given Aragorn before the Fellowship had embarked on the quest.

The others joined Legolas as they frantically searched the river for any sign of Aragorn. But other than the jewel that the Prince of Mirkwood held in his hand, there was nothing.

Théoden walked over to help the search. After a few minutes, however, he called back to his men, "Get the wounded on horses! The wolves of Isengard will return." His voice became lower and more solemn as he added, "Leave the dead."

Legolas's and Avalain's bright eyes gazed reproachfully at the king. Théoden clapped a hand on Legolas's shoulder before shaking his head and walking off, leaving the others with no other choice except to follow.

The ride to Helm's Deep was an eternity for Avalain. Boromir had died—Gandalf had just returned—and now Aragorn was dead. Faramir thought _**she **_was dead, as did the two hobbits. And Arwen was most likely on her way to the Gray Havens, if she was not already in Valinor.

When they entered Helm's Deep, Avalain's ears were still ringing. She heard nothing for a long time before she heard a cry of relief. Her head jerked to the left to see the Lady Eleanor rush toward Legolas's horse, only to stop in front of it as if wondering whether her actions were appropriate. Legolas smiled at her.

Avalain was too grief-stricken to care.

In fact, she noted dimly, she'd stopped caring about Eleanor even before Aragorn had fallen. Her caring had ceased the previous day.

The next thing Avalain heard was Éowyn, who was speaking to her uncle. "So few… so few of you have returned," she mused, her eyes wide.

"Our people are safe." He guided his horse towards the stables of the Keep, leaving Théodred, Eleanor, and Éowyn lingering in the entrance. Avalain couldn't help but notice that Éowyn was looking around.

"My lady." Gimli walked up to Éowyn, a grave look upon his face.

She saw this and swallowed. "Lord Aragorn… where is he?"

"He fell," choked Gimli, still filled with disbelief himself.

Hearing this and seeing the look of blankness on Avalain's and Legolas's faces, Éowyn sank to her knees. Her eyes were swimming, her mouth open in shock.

Théodred walked forward, murmuring to his cousin to try and comfort her.

Avalain could not bear to face any of them. She gently gestured Brismath to the stables, trusting the path Théoden had taken. Once her horse was secure in a stall, she rushed back through the doors exiting Helm's Deep and stood on the causeway. She wished to be alone for a while.

But of course, her wishes were not going to be easily granted. The door opened after a few minutes. Avalain did not turn to see who followed her. She had a relatively good guess.

"You cannot do this again."  
>Sighed Avalain in response, "Do what?"<p>

"Whisk off for time alone to think. That does nothing for you, Avalain. You wallow in grief without allowing anyone in. All this strategy of yours does is put a wall around yourself… a wall that will someday break in the worst way possible. It is like this very fortress; all but impenetrable."

"Pretty words," smirked Avalain. "But what good shall they do me, Legolas? My brother is dead. _**Your **_brother is dead. Just like the rest of them shall be. I've lost those whom I love. I've lost Gandalf once. I've lost Boromir. I've lost the hobbits. Now I've lost Aragorn. And soon I shall lose Arwen. Who am I to lose next? You? You and Gandalf are all I have left…"

Avalain felt a change in Legolas's aura. She glanced at him sideways and identified a fleeting flash of guilt in his eyes.

And that was when she realized—"I _**am **_to lose you."

"Not in the way that you think," he responded quickly. Avalain opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. "I will always be your greatest friend, should you need me to be. Yet that is all I shall be from this point onward."

"Not to sound cruel, but I do not even have the strength to care," said Avalain truthfully. Though she bristled at the thought of Eleanor being so happy, Legolas's happiness meant enough for her to accept it. "Dear me, when were you planning on bothering to tell me about your engagement?"

"Engagement?" laughed Legolas. "I wouldn't go that far."

Smiling lightly yet with some force, said Avalain, "Well, when were you going to tell me? When this adventure was over?"

Legolas replied, after a moment's thought, "I never pondered it. The war around us is real. The world around us is real. But Eleanor is different. She is a world away from Middle-Earth. I never thought of telling you simply because she is something else entirely, something not related to you or Aragorn or anyone. You may give me that look—" Indeed, Avalain was wearing a cynical smirk on her face—"But you cannot tell me that you have not felt as such before."

"No," responded Avalain haughtily. "I have not."

"Not once?" asked Legolas, almost banteringly.

Finally, the Elvish princess turned to face him. She looked him square in the eye and said, "Enough games, Legolas. I know once upon a time you used to love me. And once upon a time, I loved you too. But we both met new people. I love you, Legolas. But I do not at the same time. That is how you feel about me, and so I feel about you."

She turned back to face the horizon. Silence took over for a while.

"You knew I loved you once?" asked Legolas.

"Of course. And you knew I loved you."

There was another pause until he replied, "No, I truthfully did not. You were unreadable. I could never tell whether your actions reflected your emotions." He stopped for a moment. "Did you truly love me?"

Avalain was the one to pause now. "The way you have described feeling about Eleanor. I have felt it once… recently. But it was not towards you. I love you, that is true, but I will no longer be _**in**_ love with you, now that I found—"

She froze.

Legolas seemed to know what she was holding back. He only nodded and smiled, almost wistfully. "I cannot believe what has changed in the past two years. Did you know that after you awoke from your Transformation, Arwen and I constantly discussed whether or not you were in love with me, and if you were, how I would ask your father for your hand?"

This startled Avalain. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped. "That is why I could never find you?"

He smiled. "We were planning. But apparently that was never meant to be."

Guilt washed over her. "I'm sorry. But things changed, and I do not believe you regret what has happened for even a second." Her mind rushed back to the caves the previous day, particularly to the times she'd been with Faramir. Suddenly, Avalain felt a warm buzzing that she hadn't noticed previously, most likely because she wouldn't let herself. But now, she was subject to it completely: the buzzing, the floating, the green in her vision. "And I do not believe I regret it either."

Legolas seemed relieved. "That is good to hear. As is the truth as it once had been." He glanced out over the horizon. "I cannot help but wonder, Avalain… have you had a disagreement with Eleanor?"

She laughed; she couldn't help herself. "No. But I disliked her when it was clear she took an interest in you. I wasn't sure what to make of it. I wasn't sure if she deserved you. I didn't like it—but now I suppose I shall have to introduce myself… eventually." Avalain made sure to add a knowing smile with that last.

The Elf resisted from rolling his eyes. "If we all make it out of this war alive, then yes, you will."

Seeing as she did not have anything more to say, Avalain only nodded. She continued gazing out over the horizon. Her mind traveled back to Aragorn, and whatever spark of familiarity she'd gained from talking to Legolas faded. Now she was subject to the overwhelming sense of loss.

"Do you wish to come back inside?"

Avalain thought for a moment. "No. I shall come inside when I am ready. Right now, I am not."

Legolas paused for only a moment before placing a hand on her shoulder and walking back inside the fortress.

For two hours Avalain remained outside the fortress's doors, guards waiting to permit her entry. The whole time, her mind continued to switch from the buzzing that was growing steadily fiercer whenever she thought about Faramir, and the pain and grief of the fact that she had just lost her older brother.

Just as Avalain was about to retreat indoors, she saw something in the distance; a small black speck was quickly approaching the fortress.

Avalain cautiously walked down the causeway, ignoring the guards that asked her to remain close to the doors. Her curiosity consumed her.

When she found out who it was, she screamed.

The guards became alarmed. They figured something horrible must be drawing near—so they were naturally more than surprised when Avalain started sprinting towards the figure.

It took five minutes for her to reach Aragorn. When he saw her approaching, he grinned exhaustedly and swung himself off the horse—she recognized it as the horse he had tamed in the stables of Edoras: Brego.

When Avalain threw her arms around him, she felt his clothes were damp and torn from his fall off the cliff. He was fatigued; that was recognizable through his lethargic appearance and weary tone of voice as he soothed her. "I'm all right, Avalain. I'm all right."

Apparently, she had been screaming his name all the way down to meet him.

Now that she knew he was well, however, Avalain was gasping for breath. She had been sprinting for five minutes.

"Quick, Avalain. I have something very important to tell the king," Aragorn said after a minute or two of allowing Avalain to calm down. "Sit behind me—Brego can take us back."

Brego whinnied to agree. Once they were ready, Théodred's former horse began leading them back to Helm's Deep.

The gates opened. Aragorn and Avalain were subject to the stares and whispers of the people of Edoras, as well as those who had already heard of Aragorn's death. The whispers were relieved, but stunned as well.

However, through the midst of the commotion, they heard a familiar gruff voice shouting, "Where is he?! Where is he, I'm going to kill him!" The crowd instantly parted for Gimli, who barged up to Aragorn as he swung himself off his horse. Gimli, in a rare display of emotion, put his hands on Aragorn's arms and exclaimed, "You are the luckiest… the canniest… and the most reckless man I ever knew! Bless you, laddie!"

Aragorn smiled tiredly, but all he said was, "Gimli, where is the king?"

Gimli jerked his head in the direction of the Hornburg—Aragorn slapped a hand on his shoulder before gesturing him to follow.

Just before Avalain, Aragorn, and Gimli could enter the Keep, another blocked their footsteps. Aragorn blinked to see that it was Legolas.

"You're late," said Legolas in Elvish. Avalain grinned, and Aragorn chuckled, a smile forming on his face. Avalain heard a rush of movement, and she glanced over to see Éowyn throw down bushels of hay and start to run over towards them… but then she stopped, as if she knew better.

Legolas handed Aragorn the necklace Arwen gave him.

Aragorn stared at it in fascination before taking it, whispering Legolas thanks. With that, the Man burst into the Keep, where Théoden was talking to his Captain, Gamling.

It only took a few minutes for Aragorn to assemble all necessary ears: Avalain, Théoden, Théodred, Legolas, Gimli, Gamling. When everyone was collected, he told his story about how Brego found him on the river, and how when riding to Helm's Deep, he glimpsed Saruman's army that had been emptied.

"A great host, you say?" asked Théoden, curious, angry, and nervous at once.

Aragorn's face darkened. "All Isengard has been emptied."

"How many?" pursued the King of Rohan.

"Ten-thousand strong at least."

"Ten-thousand!" repeated Théoden as a gasp. His son put a hand on his shoulder. But the look on Théodred's face made Avalain certain that he was also coming to the same black conclusions as all the others in the room…

"It was an army bred for a single purpose," continued Aragorn. When Théoden looked him in the eye, he finished, "To destroy the world of Men. They will be here by nightfall."

It seemed everyone had frozen into statues. Avalain contemplated the number of Men that could be brought to the oncoming battle—there were not many behind the walls of the fortress. If she transferred the advantage of the wall with the number of Men, she'd say they had approximately two-thousand troops.

Versus ten-thousand.

"Let them come." Théoden's voice brought her out of her reverie. She snapped her head to look at him—when he paused in the doorway, Avalain saw that it was clear he wished for them to follow.

Once outside, Théoden moved to the causeway where Avalain had been standing earlier.

"We will cover the causeway and the gate from above. No army has ever breached the Deeping wall, or set foot inside the Hornburg!" he announced.

Gimli decided to add his own input. "This is no rabble of mindless Orcs! _**These **_are Uruk-hai. Their armor is thick and their shields broad."

Théoden took a step in his direction before answering, "I have fought in many wars, Master Dwarf. I know how to defend my own keep."

The Dwarf nodded, satisfied. Avalain spoke up then. "That is true, my lord, but you should know that their very constitution is stronger. These creatures do not feel pain… I have tried to make them many times. Death is the only way to defeat them, and I worry that some of the boys you will be sending out shall be too terrified to take true action."

"They shall have no choice," said Théoden sadly. He returned inside the gates, leaving the others to follow. He climbed some stairs until he was walking along the very gates he had spoken of—as he walked, he said, "They will break upon this fortress like water on rock. Saruman's hordes will pillage and burn—we've seen it before. Crops can be re-sown, homes rebuilt. Within these walls… we will outlast them."

By this time, however, Aragorn was exasperated with the lack of charge. "Saruman's hordes do not come to destroy Rohan's crops or villages, they come to destroy its people, down to the last child!"

Hearing this, Théoden stopped short and whirled around to face Aragorn. Avalain put a hand on his arm. "What would you have me do?!" the King of Rohan hissed. "Look at my men… their courage hangs by a thread. If this is to be their end, I would have them make _**such**_ an end as to be worthy of remembrance!"

He began to walk away, but Aragon called out after him, "Send out riders, my lord! You _**must **_call for aid."

Théodred spoke before his father could. "Father, perhaps we should at least attempt it. There is no harm in sending a few messages. We may yet have hope."

But the King of Rohan only shook his head. "Who would come? Elves? Dwarves? We are not so lucky in our friends as you… the old alliances are dead."

"Gondor will answer," persisted Aragorn confidently.

"Gondor?!" asked Théoden, almost as if he was offended by the suggestion. "Where was Gondor when the West-fold fell? Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us? Where was Gon—no, my lord Aragorn." His voice turned low and filled with a steely determination. "We are alone."

Avalain stepped forward. "My lord Théoden, my father would send troops. He has long sensed this threat. He has sent Elvish soldiers to the sides of Men before. I have no doubt he would do it again. If you allow me to ask for his aid, you may be rewarded."

As Théoden hesitated, Théodred spoke up again. "Why not, Father? The Elves are skilled archers—and we are scarce on archers. There is no harm in sending a message."

There was silence… and then, "The message would not be quick enough. But if you wish to ask your people for their help, I will not stop you."

The Elvish princess nodded. She caught Théodred's eye—he smiled at her. She returned the smile, but could not help remembering what Faramir's smile looked like—

She gasped, drawing the attention of her companions. But she did not mind… she had just remembered that he did not know she was alive. Filled with guilt, Avalain scrambled off to a place where she could find peace and quiet so she could concentrate on performing a spell…

"Avalain!" cried Aragorn, grabbing her arm. "Where are you going?"

"I need to send a message—still thinks—I'm dead…"

With that, Avalain escaped Aragorn and proceeded into the Keep to find a quiet place. She passed Men who were already preparing for battle. As she walked, Avalain noted an armory where all the Men were heading into, and another that was completely deserted.

Going into the latter, Avalain struggled to calm her mind and regain some energy she had lost over the past few hours. Could it only have been that morning that she was in the caverns of Ithilien?

For an hour and a half, the girl insistently guided her energy into her necklace so that she could perform the spell. When at last she believed to have enough, Avalain withdrew it—

A noise distracted her, and the incantation faded from her lips. Avalain glanced up to see Aragorn, looking thoroughly disgruntled. Without saying anything, he yanked on a shirt of mail and fastened a belt around his waist. He was about to grab his sword when a hand lifted the sword for him.

Legolas had walked into the room, quietly enough that Avalain had not heard him either. She tried to continue concentrating… she _**had **_to contact Faramir…

But it became rather hard when he began talking. "We have followed you this far, you have not led us astray," said Legolas softly. "Forgive me… I was wrong to despair."

In Elvish, Aragorn responded, "There is nothing to forgive, Legolas."

Avalain was not interested in what had occurred. She had sent the signal to her father for help earlier, but she had not been able to reach Frodo or Sam or Faramir.

Finally, she was forced to recognize the fact that she would not be able to finish her work when Gimli arrived. She looked up with annoyance; that soon faded when she saw the Dwarf wearing a ridiculously long and tight suit of armor.

"If I had time, I'd get this adjusted," grumbled the Dwarf.

Avalain could see why. The pants were much too long, and the Dwarf had to stand up very straight for the shirt to fit.

"It's a little tight across the chest," he clarified.

Legolas and Avalain exchanged looks—they were both about to smile, but before anyone could say anything, the sound of a horn blasted through the air. They all froze.

"That is no Orc horn," mumbled Legolas, shooting up the stairs to get outdoors. The others trailed after him.

When they emerged, ranks of Elves could be seen marching behind Helm's Deep's walls. At the gate's entrance stood Théoden and Théodred and Gamling, the first and third of these looking astounded. When Avalain neared, Théodred grinned at her and murmured, "Your message got through, I see."

"Apparently it has," was the reply.

"How is this possible?" asked Théoden breathlessly, his eyes on the Elvish commander. Avalain followed his gaze and was both surprised and glad that the Captain was none other than Haldir, the Elf the Fellowship had met in Lothlórien.

Haldir smiled cryptically. "I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell. An alliance once existed between Elves and Men. Long ago, we fought and died together. We come to honor that allegiance."

Théoden turned to face Avalain in shocked thanks. He shook his head; "Thank you," was all he was able to say. But the look in his eyes was what Avalain smile.

"We have been honored to be friends with Men for many long years," responded the princess. "Now is our time to show it."

Agreed Haldir, "We are proud to fight alongside Men once more."

Within another hour, the Men and the Elves were situated in their battle positions. Aragorn was to command the Elvish portion of the army since Théoden did not speak Elvish. Avalain, Legolas, and Gimli all stood together, overlooking the walls of Helm's Deep. They were waist-high for Avalain and Legolas, but Gimli couldn't see over the tops.

The two Elves were highly entertained as Gimli exclaimed gruffly, "You could have picked a better spot!"

At that moment, Aragorn walked over to his friends to wish them luck. By this time, the army of Elves and Men could see specks of orange trudging closer… all knew the orange was the fire of Uruk-hai torches.

"Well, lad," said Gimli to Aragorn, "whatever luck you live by, let's hope it lasts the night."

"Your friends are with you, Aragorn," added Legolas.

"We are with you to the death," smiled Avalain.

Gimli scoffed somewhat. "Well, let's hope we last the night."

Aragorn smiled at the trio and nodded. He then returned to the ranks of the Elves, all of whom were awaiting his command.

While the enemy marched forward, there came a tremendous crash from above. Avalain did not have to look up to realize a thunderstorm was approaching—rain pattered onto the armor and weapons, causing hollow _plinks _to sound throughout the ranks.

It took five minutes for Saruman's army to stand fifty feet in front of the walls of Helm's Deep. Avalain could see that they were under strict orders from only a few Captains.

Aragorn used this opportunity to shout in Elvish, "Show them no mercy… for you shall receive none!" He knew the Elves around him heard based on the loathing in their eyes.

Gimli, hearing Aragorn's Elvish shouts, did not understand them, and was therefore curious to know what they meant. He struggled to haul himself up to look over the walls—glaring at Avalain and Legolas, he asked, "What's happening out there?"

Avalain was about to respond, but Legolas beat her to it. "Would you like me to describe it to you?" He looked down at the Dwarf. "Or would you like me to find you a box?"

Though she was expecting a hostile response, Gimli surprised Avalain by laughing. At that moment, the Uruk-hai began slamming their long spears into the ground, which created an unholy racket. Avalain was not sure what this was supposed to accomplish…

Suddenly, a Man accidentally let an arrow fire from his bow. It flew through the air with deadly accuracy and embedded itself in the neck of an Uruk-hai.

The noise completely stopped as the entirety of Saruman's army watched its wounded troop. The Uruk-hai groaned noisily before falling forward to the ground. The arrow in its neck was pushed through its flesh.

The Uruk-hai were silent for a split second before they began roaring. The racket continued until a single Uruk with a particularly loud roar commanded the others to charge the fortress.

The enemy sprinted towards Helm's Deep. Avalain, along with her Elvish kinsman, remained calm and waited for Aragorn's orders. She heard him shout in Elvish, "Ready!"

The Elves all withdrew their arrows and fitted them into the string. "FIRE!"

All arrows were released, and as the Uruk-hai drew closer, the front few lines began toppling. Aragorn ordered the reserves to fire, which sent down even more of the beasts.

For a while, everything was under control. The enemy was drawing nearer to the wall, but none managed to reach it. Gimli was actually starting to become frustrated—"Send them to me, come on!" he shouted.

Eventually, due to the sheer amount of Uruk-hai, they reached the wall and started hooking ladders around the sides. Aragorn was one of the first to notice their attempts for getting over the wall.

"Ladders!" he screamed in Elvish.

Gimli understood this much. He shouldered his axe and, with a menacing gleam in his eye, shouted, "GOOD!"

As the clanking of massive machinery entered Avalain's ears, she knew that the banes would be smart enough to have some Uruk-hai ready to leap out onto the gates of the wall. She therefore was ahead of Aragorn's shout of, "Swords! Swords!"

An Uruk-hai launched up from right in front of her. With a scream of resilience, Avalain swung her sword and neatly beheaded the creature. Before it could topple upon either her or Gimli, she pushed the corpse back over the wall so it might crush another of its comrades.

Another Uruk-hai appeared—but Gimli claimed its life first. He swung his axe so hard the point could be seen through the creature's body, despite its heavy armor. He did the same with the next beast that came his way.

"Legolas, Avalain! Two already!" he shouted in triumph.

"Try fourteen, my dear!" cried Avalain, leaping back to avoid a hostile sword.

"I'm on seventeen!" shouted Legolas, a grin on his face.

Gimli was apparently not expecting this answer. "What!" he exclaimed. "I'll have no pointy-ear outscoring me!" With that, he raised his axe and, with renewed spirit, swung it mightily. It landed in a very unfortunate spot for the Uruk-hai, and due to its weakening, Gimli was able to finish it off easily.

Legolas, meanwhile, had shot two more arrows cleanly into two more targets. "Nineteen!"

Avalain laughed, though her laughter did not last long as Uruk-hai surrounded her on both sides. With a gasp, she ducked and hit the floor—the blades directed towards her were guided into the bodies of the Uruk-hai instead.

Laughing again, she leapt up and raced over to Haldir, who was masterfully tackling three beasts on his own. Though he was doing perfectly fine, she didn't wish to risk the off-chance that one of the creatures got in a lucky shot. Within another minute, the three beasts were all lying upon the stone wall, defeated.

Haldir sprinted off to another of his soldiers who was wounded and taking on a rather bloodthirsty monster. This left Avalain with a few seconds of rest before she was forced to lunge backward to avoid a sword point thrust at her neck. She raised her sword and batted the Uruk-hai blade away—deciding to take Gimli's tactic, she kicked the beast between the legs and quickly beheaded it.

Time blurred into something unimportant. For hours on end, Avalain whirled around, dodging, stabbing, slicing. More than once, she handed a boy of Rohan one of her knives so he could defend himself better—she attempted to gather a number of them around her so that she could protect them. Around her now were four boys, all of whom were fighting back to back with axes or some of the fallen Uruk-hai's swords or the knives Avalain had given them.

A sharp stab filled Avalain when she was reminded of the hobbits.

Filled with a new fire of hope for her survival—she had to survive, for the hobbits—she fought fiercer than she believed herself capable, seeing how long she'd been going at it. Before long, Avalain's kill count was twenty-six.

Grinning, she reached back for an arrow in her quiver since an Elf far away needed assistance—her heart fell when she felt it was her last arrow.

But determined not to falter, Avalain fitted the arrow in her bow and let it loose. It was barely quick enough to save the life of her kinsman.

At this point, Avalain was reminded of her _**own **_friends. Desperate to know what had befallen them, she grabbed a boy's hand and shouted, "Follow me!" They quickly obeyed.

Avalain was forced to stop and kill an interfering fiend more than once. She also had to take detours to avoid scenes where the death of one of the four boys behind her was likely.

There was a scream from behind her, and Avalain whirled around to see one of the boys being grabbed by an Uruk-hai. Without hesitation, she chucked the knife in her hand straight past the boy and into the skull of the Uruk-hai. The boy screamed again as he was dropped. The beast's body began to collapse upon him.

But the Elvish girl launched under the body herself. She pushed the boy out of the way and cried, "GO! Be careful!" She was then forced to leap up and take on another Uruk-hai.

After telling the boys to find some another who would protect them, Avalain was again alone. She was no longer afraid to leap into dangerous and seemingly hopeless scenes.

As Avalain traveled along all the edges of the stone arches, she was finally able to hear a more than welcome voice—"SEVENTEEN! EIGHTEEN! NINETEEN! TWENTY! TWENTY-_**ONE…!**_"

For the first time in hours, Avalain laughed. It appeared Gimli had somehow managed to situate himself on top of the wall's ledges, in between two Uruk-hai ladders. He was now indulging himself to a killing fest; all he had to do was swing his axe rhythmically in between said ladders.

Avalain thought vaguely to herself that she needed to gain a bigger lead. She had thirty-three, and Gimli was only behind her by twelve now.

Restraining a smile at such childish thoughts, she continued on, knowing that Gimli would be all right. She glared around for a sight of fair hair, but with Elves beyond count fighting alongside her, it was admittedly hard to distinguish which one was Legolas.

"CAUSEWAY! CAUSEWAY!" shouted another familiar voice. Avalain whirled around to see it was Aragorn who was frantically pointing at, sure enough, the causeway. The Uruk-hai had formed a barrier of shields so that they could proceed to the barred doors. The arrows shot at the Uruk-hai only bounced off the iron shields—for some reason, however, the Uruk-hai began falling. Avalain gasped as she realized it was more Uruk-hai with a large log… something to break the door down with.

Something else caught her eye, however, distracting her. It was an Uruk-hai with a flaming white torch in his hand.

Aragorn saw it, too. Avalain did not know why the Uruk-hai with the torch was such a big deal… until she realized that its comrades were cheering barbarically, waving their hands and chanting… it seemed almost like a ritual. The beasts were acting as if they had already won.

That was when she realized what she was standing over.

"BRING HIM DOWN!" Aragorn screamed in Elvish. "LEGOLAS! KILL HIM!"

Avalain gasped. If Legolas didn't shoot him, he would light the torch into the mines the Uruk-hai must have placed below, in the small culvert, the only weakness of Helm's Deep.

Legolas's first arrow made its way into the Uruk's shoulder. Frantic, Avalain withdrew her last spare knife and desperately chucked it downward.

The knife landed in the creature's heart just as another arrow sprouted from its skull.

But the momentum of the Uruk-hai could not be stopped. It tumbled into the small culvert—

An earsplitting, ground-shaking _**BOOM **_filled the earth and air. Avalain only had time to lock eyes with Aragorn before they were both blown up into the air. Legolas also went flying, as did Gimli, though Avalain did not see either of them.

Avalain landed in the water where the small culvert had been. She groaned as she raised her head—her hair was damp; her dress weighed her down. She saw Gimli struggling to stand now that his heavy battle armor was soaked.

She grabbed onto his arm; reinforcements were staring at them, but as she watched, Avalain realized they were looking beyond them.

She turned her head to see the charging ranks of Uruk-hai.

Avalain looked down at Gimli. She saw the same look in his eyes. "Together?" he asked. She nodded. As one, they charged the ranks of Uruk-hai, hoping to take down as many as they could, side-by-side, until they would be overwhelmed.

A voice shouted their names. "AVALAIN! GIMLI!" Then in Elvish, "CHARGE!"

And then Aragorn was beside her, his sword an arc of silver as it maimed and beheaded countless numbers of Uruk-hai. Even as Avalain turned around, she gasped as a monster had raised its sword. It was lowering—this would be it—

"NO!" Aragorn lunged forward and sliced off the monster's hand, the sword it had been holding dropping to the ground.

The Uruk-hai, outraged at its loss, grabbed Aragorn's throat. Avalain gasped and cut off its other arm before driving her blade into its skull. The light in its eyes dimmed; it fell into the water with a loud _**splash!**_

__As Aragorn recuperated, Gimli and Avalain protected him and made sure no Uruk-hai could draw close. After another moment, Aragorn was back to indisposing the beasts as magnificently as he had been previously.

Just then, there was a shout from Théodred. Avalain realized she had not seen him since he was smiling and thanking her for bringing her kinsman to their aid. "Aragorn! Fall back! Get to the Keep!"

He nodded in response, and Avalain watched him for a moment. "NO!" she screamed, seeing a brute draw upon his back. Using a spell, she launched herself at the Uruk-hai, drawing its attention away from Théodred. The Uruk and Avalain tumbled down a number of steps, which knocked the wind out of the Elvish princess. When they finally reached the bottom, the Uruk-hai hardly seemed fazed. Avalain's vision was turning fuzzy.

Now it was Théodred's turn to shout, "NO!" and leap upon the Uruk-hai. He withdrew hunting knives and sliced the beast's head clean off its shoulders before leaping nimbly off its back and standing above Avalain, who was still dizzy.

"Need a hand?" he asked with a grin.

Avalain smiled grimly and took it—at least five more Uruk-hai enclosed them. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Aragorn and Gimli rush to the Men and Elves who had not heard the order to retreat. She knew that there would be no help for her or Théodred this time…

And then the sound of metal grinding against stone entered her ears. Her gaze darted up to see Legolas, who had thrown a shield upon some steps and was sliding down it, shooting one, two, three, four, five arrows at the banes surrounding her and Théodred. Legolas then launched off the shield, propelling it into another Uruk-hai's armor so deeply it emerged clean out the other side.

Legolas hopped down from the shield and ran to the Prince of Rohan and the Princess of Rivendell. "We should go. We cannot linger," he said, nodding towards the two. Both sprinted after him as he led the way to the Keep.

Before long, the trio had caught up with Aragorn, who was shouting back to Haldir, "Haldir! Fall back to the Keep!" When Haldir nodded, he shouted back to his soldiers to retreat—another Uruk-hai crept to his back.

"_**Behind you!**_" warned Avalain, but she did not have any more weapons except her sword, and she needed that. Haldir was too slow…

The blade sliced along his back.

Avalain screamed. Aragorn called Haldir's name. Legolas shouted in fury.

Haldir fell to his knees on the ground.

Aragorn broke free of those surrounding him and bolted up to Haldir. More Uruk-hai reached Avalain and the others, and they were again in combat.

Once the quartet was free, they all searched frantically for Aragorn. He was beside a lifeless Haldir—but with a bellow of rage, he sliced down a ladder and jumped upon the rails. Just before the ladder could crash into the ground, he leapt off it and crushed a good number of Uruk-hai.

Gimli and Legolas rushed back to Aragorn to help him. Théodred and Avalain remained behind so that when the three of them would return, they could have a clear path to the Keep.

Avalain fought fiercely despite the tears welling up in her eyes. Haldir had been a good, strong Elf. He deserved life, not death, and most certainly not a death in war.

Her fury paid off as fuel for violence—when Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli all returned, they were able to sprint to the Keep within a matter of seconds.

When they reached the Keep, Aragorn and Gimli split up to locate Théoden. Avalain and Théodred decided to remain as a pair so they would have one another's back while Legolas chose to return to the upper arches.

"Can you believe we're doing this again?" asked Théodred as he and Avalain fought. "Escaping battles one week and nearly dying—before long, we're back in the thick of war?"

Avalain laughed bitterly. Her sword decapitated an Uruk-hai. "Of course. The Dark Lord continues to get stronger as our hope slowly diminishes. It is the nature of the beast, my friend!"

Now it was Théodred to smile. "A pity it has to be this way, though, isn't it?"

"Yes… that it is." Avalain watched as Théodred's sword flew through an Uruk-hai's armor as if it were paper.

Just then, the sound of cracking wood entered their ears. Avalain and Théodred whirled to see the door burst open and break into splinters. Uruk-hai started pouring into the fortress; the Men who had previously been blocking it sprinted past the duo as Théoden shouted, "They have broken through! The castle has been breached… RETREAT! RETREAT! Into the Keep!"

Aragorn sprinted to Avalain and Théodred and shouted, "Inside, get inside! Get the others inside!"

"LEGOLAS!" screamed Avalain, knowing he wouldn't be far behind. She was right—after she shouted his name, Legolas leapt down from a high arch and landed nimbly beside her. She guided a few Men in front of her so she could give them a head start.

Théodred started pulling her along, but she shook her head and shouted, "Not yet!"

She bent down and grabbed a few knives that were lying about. As some of the Men who were injured did their best to retreat into the Keep, she launched the projectiles with deadly accuracy. The front row of Uruk-hai fell dead. Seeing this strategy, Théodred and Aragorn remained behind to give more Men the chance to escape. Gimli scrambled around, gathering knives and other lethal objects for them to launch.

When the last of the Men made it into the Keep, the four sprinted towards the doors. As soon as they were inside, the doors slammed shut with a promising _**BOOM! **_Immediately after, Men pushed heavy objects in front of the door. Avalain pushed a large crate of lead and pewter shields with help from Théodred and Gamling. After the Men had shoved everything they could in front of the door, she slumped across the wall in pure exhaustion. She estimated the barrier could last for an hour…

As the Men searched mightily for anything else that could help barricade the entrance, Théoden watched with increasing dismay. At last, he said, "The fortress is taken! It is over…"

Aragorn, hearing this, marched over to the King of Rohan. "You said this fortress wouldn't fall while your men defend it! They are still defending it! They have _**died**_ defending it!" Hearing Théoden's silence, Aragorn turned to the next matter at hand. "Is there no other way for the women and children to get out of the caves?" Seeing the looks on Théoden's and Gamling's faces, asked he with increasing apprehension, "Is there no other way?!"

Gamling was the first to respond. "There is one passage. It leads into the mountains. But they will not get far, the Uruk-hai are too many."

Pushing him toward the women and children, shouted Aragorn, "Send word for the women and children to make for the mountain pass. And barricade the entrance!"

"So much death…" said Théoden suddenly. "What can Men do against such reckless hate?"

Answered Aragorn, "Ride out with me. Ride out and meet them."

"For death and glory," mumbled Théoden.

"For Rohan," contradicted Aragorn. "For your people."

Spoke Gimli then, "The sun is rising."

Avalain glanced over to the window. True to his word, dawn was arriving. White light glimmered into the Keep.

"Yes," said Théoden. "Yes… The horn of Helm Hammer-hand shall sound in the Deep one last time!"

"Yes!" exclaimed Gimli.

They rushed to grab the horses. Before long, Aragorn, Avalain, Théoden, Théodred, Legolas, and Gamling were all upon horses in the midst of the Keep. They ordered the remaining Men to go and defend the women and children in the caves…

As the door shuddered on its hinges, said Théoden, "Let this be the hour when we draw swords together. Fell deeds awake… now for wrath, now for ruin, and a red dawn!"

Gimli reached the horn of the Helm Hammer-hand… the bass horn sounded through the air, causing a ringing in the ears of those who survived. Again and again the horn sounded—

The door suddenly burst open. All could see the faces of snarling Uruk-hai as they prepared to storm the room.

"_**Forth Eorlingas!**_" shouted Théoden, and the horses, at the summons of their riders, ran straight towards the oncoming army.


	16. Chapter 16

Avalain gasped.

But the blade did not bring any feeling at all.

"_**NO!**_" shouted Faramir—his face had morphed into what Avalain could only assume was agony—Frodo and Sam were screaming her name—"_**AVALAIN!**_"—their little voices echoed around the stone cave—

And still, the blade brought no pain at all. The caves around her faded swiftly. The blade was removed from her holographic body—

"I'm all right!" she called out in relief.

But she was too late. The caves had faded; only the fields were around her now. Avalain's confusion transformed to desperation. She had to let Faramir and the hobbits know she was alive… she _**had **_to…

Another blade aimed for her body distracted her from her thoughts. Robotically, Avalain jumped over the attack. The sudden maneuver brought her from her thoughts and forced her to look around.

A full-scale battle had taken place. Orcs riding Wargs were charging Men on horses—numerous bodies lay upon the ground. It appeared the people of Rohan were near Helm's Deep, but Saruman's Warg-Riders had intercepted their path.

Avalain spotted a loose horse bucking and kicking at a Warg bearing two riders. She sprinted towards the creature and leapt onto the horse's back, quickly withdrawing two arrows and destroying the monsters. She bade the horse turn in a circle. Her gaze sought out Legolas or Gimli or Aragorn…

She spotted Legolas's fair hair in the midst of the fray. Gimli was trapped underneath a fallen Warg, but nobody was targeting him. He would survive. Avalain used her Elvish vision to detect where Aragorn was battling.

Another blade swung towards her, this time at her head. Avalain ducked and lashed out with her sword—the Orc, now decapitated, fell off the Warg, which went rogue at the loss of its master. It ran for the hills, following another of its kin.

For the second time, Avalain was forced to resort to her Elvish vision to locate Aragorn. He had been battling an Orc atop a particularly ferocious Warg before the sword had appeared—she spotted him quickly. His hand was stuck around the stirrup of the Warg's saddle. He had managed to stick his dagger into the Orc, it had fallen…

She screamed as the Warg toppled over the cliff, Aragorn still attached to its side.

_No. No. No._

Avalain lost all control. She suddenly felt as if she were a black hole herself, capable of obliterating all in her path. Though she did not know it, Avalain's eyes turned from amber to black. Her horse bolted in the direction she bade.

She charged the Orcs' ranks, her sword ready and waiting. An uncontrollable thirst of blood drove her to the middle of the pack, drove her to perform such a dangerous stunt. Faramir's words of being careful were lost in the blind fury that consumed her. Aragorn had fallen. Aragorn was _**dead.**_

__The next thing she knew, Legolas was screaming, "Avalain, that's _**enough!**_"

With a start, Avalain realized she had killed every last one of the beasts. She had proceeded to hewn their bodies further as they lay, sprawled, against the grass.

"No! No! Legolas, let go of me! Let me destroy them—they killed—" Avalain struggled mightily, but he refused to release her. She was reduced to sobs. "They k-killed Aragorn!" Her wails gave Legolas and Gimli pause. They could not believe it.

They decided to investigate for themselves.

At Avalain's instruction, they neared the cliff he'd fallen from. They passed the Orc that Aragorn had been battling before…

There was a raspy laugh from that very same Orc.

Gimli was upon it the fastest. Wielding his axe at its head, growled the Dwarf, "Tell me what happened and I will ease your passing."

_No, _thought Avalain. _Torture it. Mangle it. Let it feel pain before you kill it._

"He's dead!" gargled the Orc triumphantly. Its eyes were dimming. But there was still time to hurt him. "He took a little tumble off the cliff."

Legolas stared at the Orc. His eyes became blank. Bending down, he grabbed at the Orc's armor. "You lie," he growled.

But the Orc simply laughed. He laughed until his own blood choked him. The light in the beast's eyes faded, and he was suddenly and harshly still.

Now that it was dead, Legolas left Avalain's side to stare over the edge of the cliff. But he saw nothing. The river below held no sign that indicated Aragorn was nearby. Filled with grief, he returned to Avalain, who had knelt over the dead Orc and was glaring at it with hatred. An insatiable thirst for blood fell over her.

Legolas then noticed something the others didn't. In the Orc's hand was the jewel Arwen had given Aragorn before the Fellowship had embarked on the quest.

The others joined Legolas as they frantically searched the river for any sign of Aragorn. But other than the jewel that the Prince of Mirkwood held in his hand, there was nothing.

Théoden walked over to help the search. After a few minutes, however, he called back to his men, "Get the wounded on horses! The wolves of Isengard will return." His voice became lower and more solemn as he added, "Leave the dead."

Legolas's and Avalain's bright eyes gazed reproachfully at the king. Théoden clapped a hand on Legolas's shoulder before shaking his head and walking off, leaving the others with no other choice except to follow.

The ride to Helm's Deep was an eternity for Avalain. Boromir had died—Gandalf had just returned—and now Aragorn was dead. Faramir thought _**she **_was dead, as did the two hobbits. And Arwen was most likely on her way to the Gray Havens, if she was not already in Valinor.

When they entered Helm's Deep, Avalain's ears were still ringing. She heard nothing for a long time before she heard a cry of relief. Her head jerked to the left to see the Lady Eleanor rush toward Legolas's horse, only to stop in front of it as if wondering whether her actions were appropriate. Legolas smiled at her.

Avalain was too grief-stricken to care.

In fact, she noted dimly, she'd stopped caring about Eleanor even before Aragorn had fallen. Her caring had ceased the previous day.

The next thing Avalain heard was Éowyn, who was speaking to her uncle. "So few… so few of you have returned," she mused, her eyes wide.

"Our people are safe." He guided his horse towards the stables of the Keep, leaving Théodred, Eleanor, and Éowyn lingering in the entrance. Avalain couldn't help but notice that Éowyn was looking around.

"My lady." Gimli walked up to Éowyn, a grave look upon his face.

She saw this and swallowed. "Lord Aragorn… where is he?"

"He fell," choked Gimli, still filled with disbelief himself.

Hearing this and seeing the look of blankness on Avalain's and Legolas's faces, Éowyn sank to her knees. Her eyes were swimming, her mouth open in shock.

Théodred walked forward, murmuring to his cousin to try and comfort her.

Avalain could not bear to face any of them. She gently gestured Brismath to the stables, trusting the path Théoden had taken. Once her horse was secure in a stall, she rushed back through the doors exiting Helm's Deep and stood on the causeway. She wished to be alone for a while.

But of course, her wishes were not going to be easily granted. The door opened after a few minutes. Avalain did not turn to see who followed her. She had a relatively good guess.

"You cannot do this again."  
>Sighed Avalain in response, "Do what?"<p>

"Whisk off for time alone to think. That does nothing for you, Avalain. You wallow in grief without allowing anyone in. All this strategy of yours does is put a wall around yourself… a wall that will someday break in the worst way possible. It is like this very fortress; all but impenetrable."

"Pretty words," smirked Avalain. "But what good shall they do me, Legolas? My brother is dead. _**Your **_brother is dead. Just like the rest of them shall be. I've lost those whom I love. I've lost Gandalf once. I've lost Boromir. I've lost the hobbits. Now I've lost Aragorn. And soon I shall lose Arwen. Who am I to lose next? You? You and Gandalf are all I have left…"

Avalain felt a change in Legolas's aura. She glanced at him sideways and identified a fleeting flash of guilt in his eyes.

And that was when she realized—"I _**am **_to lose you."

"Not in the way that you think," he responded quickly. Avalain opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. "I will always be your greatest friend, should you need me to be. Yet that is all I shall be from this point onward."

"Not to sound cruel, but I do not even have the strength to care," said Avalain truthfully. Though she bristled at the thought of Eleanor being so happy, Legolas's happiness meant enough for her to accept it. "Dear me, when were you planning on bothering to tell me about your engagement?"

"Engagement?" laughed Legolas. "I wouldn't go that far."

Smiling lightly yet with some force, said Avalain, "Well, when were you going to tell me? When this adventure was over?"

Legolas replied, after a moment's thought, "I never pondered it. The war around us is real. The world around us is real. But Eleanor is different. She is a world away from Middle-Earth. I never thought of telling you simply because she is something else entirely, something not related to you or Aragorn or anyone. You may give me that look—" Indeed, Avalain was wearing a cynical smirk on her face—"But you cannot tell me that you have not felt as such before."

"No," responded Avalain haughtily. "I have not."

"Not once?" asked Legolas, almost banteringly.

Finally, the Elvish princess turned to face him. She looked him square in the eye and said, "Enough games, Legolas. I know once upon a time you used to love me. And once upon a time, I loved you too. But we both met new people. I love you, Legolas. But I do not at the same time. That is how you feel about me, and so I feel about you."

She turned back to face the horizon. Silence took over for a while.

"You knew I loved you once?" asked Legolas.

"Of course. And you knew I loved you."

There was another pause until he replied, "No, I truthfully did not. You were unreadable. I could never tell whether your actions reflected your emotions." He stopped for a moment. "Did you truly love me?"

Avalain was the one to pause now. "The way you have described feeling about Eleanor. I have felt it once… recently. But it was not towards you. I love you, that is true, but I will no longer be _**in**_ love with you, now that I found—"

She froze.

Legolas seemed to know what she was holding back. He only nodded and smiled, almost wistfully. "I cannot believe what has changed in the past two years. Did you know that after you awoke from your Transformation, Arwen and I constantly discussed whether or not you were in love with me, and if you were, how I would ask your father for your hand?"

This startled Avalain. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped. "That is why I could never find you?"

He smiled. "We were planning. But apparently that was never meant to be."

Guilt washed over her. "I'm sorry. But things changed, and I do not believe you regret what has happened for even a second." Her mind rushed back to the caves the previous day, particularly to the times she'd been with Faramir. Suddenly, Avalain felt a warm buzzing that she hadn't noticed previously, most likely because she wouldn't let herself. But now, she was subject to it completely: the buzzing, the floating, the green in her vision. "And I do not believe I regret it either."

Legolas seemed relieved. "That is good to hear. As is the truth as it once had been." He glanced out over the horizon. "I cannot help but wonder, Avalain… have you had a disagreement with Eleanor?"

She laughed; she couldn't help herself. "No. But I disliked her when it was clear she took an interest in you. I wasn't sure what to make of it. I wasn't sure if she deserved you. I didn't like it—but now I suppose I shall have to introduce myself… eventually." Avalain made sure to add a knowing smile with that last.

The Elf resisted from rolling his eyes. "If we all make it out of this war alive, then yes, you will."

Seeing as she did not have anything more to say, Avalain only nodded. She continued gazing out over the horizon. Her mind traveled back to Aragorn, and whatever spark of familiarity she'd gained from talking to Legolas faded. Now she was subject to the overwhelming sense of loss.

"Do you wish to come back inside?"

Avalain thought for a moment. "No. I shall come inside when I am ready. Right now, I am not."

Legolas paused for only a moment before placing a hand on her shoulder and walking back inside the fortress.

For two hours Avalain remained outside the fortress's doors, guards waiting to permit her entry. The whole time, her mind continued to switch from the buzzing that was growing steadily fiercer whenever she thought about Faramir, and the pain and grief of the fact that she had just lost her older brother.

Just as Avalain was about to retreat indoors, she saw something in the distance; a small black speck was quickly approaching the fortress.

Avalain cautiously walked down the causeway, ignoring the guards that asked her to remain close to the doors. Her curiosity consumed her.

When she found out who it was, she screamed.

The guards became alarmed. They figured something horrible must be drawing near—so they were naturally more than surprised when Avalain started sprinting towards the figure.

It took five minutes for her to reach Aragorn. When he saw her approaching, he grinned exhaustedly and swung himself off the horse—she recognized it as the horse he had tamed in the stables of Edoras: Brego.

When Avalain threw her arms around him, she felt his clothes were damp and torn from his fall off the cliff. He was fatigued; that was recognizable through his lethargic appearance and weary tone of voice as he soothed her. "I'm all right, Avalain. I'm all right."

Apparently, she had been screaming his name all the way down to meet him.

Now that she knew he was well, however, Avalain was gasping for breath. She had been sprinting for five minutes.

"Quick, Avalain. I have something very important to tell the king," Aragorn said after a minute or two of allowing Avalain to calm down. "Sit behind me—Brego can take us back."

Brego whinnied to agree. Once they were ready, Théodred's former horse began leading them back to Helm's Deep.

The gates opened. Aragorn and Avalain were subject to the stares and whispers of the people of Edoras, as well as those who had already heard of Aragorn's death. The whispers were relieved, but stunned as well.

However, through the midst of the commotion, they heard a familiar gruff voice shouting, "Where is he?! Where is he, I'm going to kill him!" The crowd instantly parted for Gimli, who barged up to Aragorn as he swung himself off his horse. Gimli, in a rare display of emotion, put his hands on Aragorn's arms and exclaimed, "You are the luckiest… the canniest… and the most reckless man I ever knew! Bless you, laddie!"

Aragorn smiled tiredly, but all he said was, "Gimli, where is the king?"

Gimli jerked his head in the direction of the Hornburg—Aragorn slapped a hand on his shoulder before gesturing him to follow.

Just before Avalain, Aragorn, and Gimli could enter the Keep, another blocked their footsteps. Aragorn blinked to see that it was Legolas.

"You're late," said Legolas in Elvish. Avalain grinned, and Aragorn chuckled, a smile forming on his face. Avalain heard a rush of movement, and she glanced over to see Éowyn throw down bushels of hay and start to run over towards them… but then she stopped, as if she knew better.

Legolas handed Aragorn the necklace Arwen gave him.

Aragorn stared at it in fascination before taking it, whispering Legolas thanks. With that, the Man burst into the Keep, where Théoden was talking to his Captain, Gamling.

It only took a few minutes for Aragorn to assemble all necessary ears: Avalain, Théoden, Théodred, Legolas, Gimli, Gamling. When everyone was collected, he told his story about how Brego found him on the river, and how when riding to Helm's Deep, he glimpsed Saruman's army that had been emptied.

"A great host, you say?" asked Théoden, curious, angry, and nervous at once.

Aragorn's face darkened. "All Isengard has been emptied."

"How many?" pursued the King of Rohan.

"Ten-thousand strong at least."

"Ten-thousand!" repeated Théoden as a gasp. His son put a hand on his shoulder. But the look on Théodred's face made Avalain certain that he was also coming to the same black conclusions as all the others in the room…

"It was an army bred for a single purpose," continued Aragorn. When Théoden looked him in the eye, he finished, "To destroy the world of Men. They will be here by nightfall."

It seemed everyone had frozen into statues. Avalain contemplated the number of Men that could be brought to the oncoming battle—there were not many behind the walls of the fortress. If she transferred the advantage of the wall with the number of Men, she'd say they had approximately two-thousand troops.

Versus ten-thousand.

"Let them come." Théoden's voice brought her out of her reverie. She snapped her head to look at him—when he paused in the doorway, Avalain saw that it was clear he wished for them to follow.

Once outside, Théoden moved to the causeway where Avalain had been standing earlier.

"We will cover the causeway and the gate from above. No army has ever breached the Deeping wall, or set foot inside the Hornburg!" he announced.

Gimli decided to add his own input. "This is no rabble of mindless Orcs! _**These **_are Uruk-hai. Their armor is thick and their shields broad."

Théoden took a step in his direction before answering, "I have fought in many wars, Master Dwarf. I know how to defend my own keep."

The Dwarf nodded, satisfied. Avalain spoke up then. "That is true, my lord, but you should know that their very constitution is stronger. These creatures do not feel pain… I have tried to make them many times. Death is the only way to defeat them, and I worry that some of the boys you will be sending out shall be too terrified to take true action."

"They shall have no choice," said Théoden sadly. He returned inside the gates, leaving the others to follow. He climbed some stairs until he was walking along the very gates he had spoken of—as he walked, he said, "They will break upon this fortress like water on rock. Saruman's hordes will pillage and burn—we've seen it before. Crops can be re-sown, homes rebuilt. Within these walls… we will outlast them."

By this time, however, Aragorn was exasperated with the lack of charge. "Saruman's hordes do not come to destroy Rohan's crops or villages, they come to destroy its people, down to the last child!"

Hearing this, Théoden stopped short and whirled around to face Aragorn. Avalain put a hand on his arm. "What would you have me do?!" the King of Rohan hissed. "Look at my men… their courage hangs by a thread. If this is to be their end, I would have them make _**such**_ an end as to be worthy of remembrance!"

He began to walk away, but Aragon called out after him, "Send out riders, my lord! You _**must **_call for aid."

Théodred spoke before his father could. "Father, perhaps we should at least attempt it. There is no harm in sending a few messages. We may yet have hope."

But the King of Rohan only shook his head. "Who would come? Elves? Dwarves? We are not so lucky in our friends as you… the old alliances are dead."

"Gondor will answer," persisted Aragorn confidently.

"Gondor?!" asked Théoden, almost as if he was offended by the suggestion. "Where was Gondor when the West-fold fell? Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us? Where was Gon—no, my lord Aragorn." His voice turned low and filled with a steely determination. "We are alone."

Avalain stepped forward. "My lord Théoden, my father would send troops. He has long sensed this threat. He has sent Elvish soldiers to the sides of Men before. I have no doubt he would do it again. If you allow me to ask for his aid, you may be rewarded."

As Théoden hesitated, Théodred spoke up again. "Why not, Father? The Elves are skilled archers—and we are scarce on archers. There is no harm in sending a message."

There was silence… and then, "The message would not be quick enough. But if you wish to ask your people for their help, I will not stop you."

The Elvish princess nodded. She caught Théodred's eye—he smiled at her. She returned the smile, but could not help remembering what Faramir's smile looked like—

She gasped, drawing the attention of her companions. But she did not mind… she had just remembered that he did not know she was alive. Filled with guilt, Avalain scrambled off to a place where she could find peace and quiet so she could concentrate on performing a spell…

"Avalain!" cried Aragorn, grabbing her arm. "Where are you going?"

"I need to send a message—still thinks—I'm dead…"

With that, Avalain escaped Aragorn and proceeded into the Keep to find a quiet place. She passed Men who were already preparing for battle. As she walked, Avalain noted an armory where all the Men were heading into, and another that was completely deserted.

Going into the latter, Avalain struggled to calm her mind and regain some energy she had lost over the past few hours. Could it only have been that morning that she was in the caverns of Ithilien?

For an hour and a half, the girl insistently guided her energy into her necklace so that she could perform the spell. When at last she believed to have enough, Avalain withdrew it—

A noise distracted her, and the incantation faded from her lips. Avalain glanced up to see Aragorn, looking thoroughly disgruntled. Without saying anything, he yanked on a shirt of mail and fastened a belt around his waist. He was about to grab his sword when a hand lifted the sword for him.

Legolas had walked into the room, quietly enough that Avalain had not heard him either. She tried to continue concentrating… she _**had **_to contact Faramir…

But it became rather hard when he began talking. "We have followed you this far, you have not led us astray," said Legolas softly. "Forgive me… I was wrong to despair."

In Elvish, Aragorn responded, "There is nothing to forgive, Legolas."

Avalain was not interested in what had occurred. She had sent the signal to her father for help earlier, but she had not been able to reach Frodo or Sam or Faramir.

Finally, she was forced to recognize the fact that she would not be able to finish her work when Gimli arrived. She looked up with annoyance; that soon faded when she saw the Dwarf wearing a ridiculously long and tight suit of armor.

"If I had time, I'd get this adjusted," grumbled the Dwarf.

Avalain could see why. The pants were much too long, and the Dwarf had to stand up very straight for the shirt to fit.

"It's a little tight across the chest," he clarified.

Legolas and Avalain exchanged looks—they were both about to smile, but before anyone could say anything, the sound of a horn blasted through the air. They all froze.

"That is no Orc horn," mumbled Legolas, shooting up the stairs to get outdoors. The others trailed after him.

When they emerged, ranks of Elves could be seen marching behind Helm's Deep's walls. At the gate's entrance stood Théoden and Théodred and Gamling, the first and third of these looking astounded. When Avalain neared, Théodred grinned at her and murmured, "Your message got through, I see."

"Apparently it has," was the reply.

"How is this possible?" asked Théoden breathlessly, his eyes on the Elvish commander. Avalain followed his gaze and was both surprised and glad that the Captain was none other than Haldir, the Elf the Fellowship had met in Lothlórien.

Haldir smiled cryptically. "I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell. An alliance once existed between Elves and Men. Long ago, we fought and died together. We come to honor that allegiance."

Théoden turned to face Avalain in shocked thanks. He shook his head; "Thank you," was all he was able to say. But the look in his eyes was what Avalain smile.

"We have been honored to be friends with Men for many long years," responded the princess. "Now is our time to show it."

Agreed Haldir, "We are proud to fight alongside Men once more."

Within another hour, the Men and the Elves were situated in their battle positions. Aragorn was to command the Elvish portion of the army since Théoden did not speak Elvish. Avalain, Legolas, and Gimli all stood together, overlooking the walls of Helm's Deep. They were waist-high for Avalain and Legolas, but Gimli couldn't see over the tops.

The two Elves were highly entertained as Gimli exclaimed gruffly, "You could have picked a better spot!"

At that moment, Aragorn walked over to his friends to wish them luck. By this time, the army of Elves and Men could see specks of orange trudging closer… all knew the orange was the fire of Uruk-hai torches.

"Well, lad," said Gimli to Aragorn, "whatever luck you live by, let's hope it lasts the night."

"Your friends are with you, Aragorn," added Legolas.

"We are with you to the death," smiled Avalain.

Gimli scoffed somewhat. "Well, let's hope we last the night."

Aragorn smiled at the trio and nodded. He then returned to the ranks of the Elves, all of whom were awaiting his command.

While the enemy marched forward, there came a tremendous crash from above. Avalain did not have to look up to realize a thunderstorm was approaching—rain pattered onto the armor and weapons, causing hollow _plinks _to sound throughout the ranks.

It took five minutes for Saruman's army to stand fifty feet in front of the walls of Helm's Deep. Avalain could see that they were under strict orders from only a few Captains.

Aragorn used this opportunity to shout in Elvish, "Show them no mercy… for you shall receive none!" He knew the Elves around him heard based on the loathing in their eyes.

Gimli, hearing Aragorn's Elvish shouts, did not understand them, and was therefore curious to know what they meant. He struggled to haul himself up to look over the walls—glaring at Avalain and Legolas, he asked, "What's happening out there?"

Avalain was about to respond, but Legolas beat her to it. "Would you like me to describe it to you?" He looked down at the Dwarf. "Or would you like me to find you a box?"

Though she was expecting a hostile response, Gimli surprised Avalain by laughing. At that moment, the Uruk-hai began slamming their long spears into the ground, which created an unholy racket. Avalain was not sure what this was supposed to accomplish…

Suddenly, a Man accidentally let an arrow fire from his bow. It flew through the air with deadly accuracy and embedded itself in the neck of an Uruk-hai.

The noise completely stopped as the entirety of Saruman's army watched its wounded troop. The Uruk-hai groaned noisily before falling forward to the ground. The arrow in its neck was pushed through its flesh.

The Uruk-hai were silent for a split second before they began roaring. The racket continued until a single Uruk with a particularly loud roar commanded the others to charge the fortress.

The enemy sprinted towards Helm's Deep. Avalain, along with her Elvish kinsman, remained calm and waited for Aragorn's orders. She heard him shout in Elvish, "Ready!"

The Elves all withdrew their arrows and fitted them into the string. "FIRE!"

All arrows were released, and as the Uruk-hai drew closer, the front few lines began toppling. Aragorn ordered the reserves to fire, which sent down even more of the beasts.

For a while, everything was under control. The enemy was drawing nearer to the wall, but none managed to reach it. Gimli was actually starting to become frustrated—"Send them to me, come on!" he shouted.

Eventually, due to the sheer amount of Uruk-hai, they reached the wall and started hooking ladders around the sides. Aragorn was one of the first to notice their attempts for getting over the wall.

"Ladders!" he screamed in Elvish.

Gimli understood this much. He shouldered his axe and, with a menacing gleam in his eye, shouted, "GOOD!"

As the clanking of massive machinery entered Avalain's ears, she knew that the banes would be smart enough to have some Uruk-hai ready to leap out onto the gates of the wall. She therefore was ahead of Aragorn's shout of, "Swords! Swords!"

An Uruk-hai launched up from right in front of her. With a scream of resilience, Avalain swung her sword and neatly beheaded the creature. Before it could topple upon either her or Gimli, she pushed the corpse back over the wall so it might crush another of its comrades.

Another Uruk-hai appeared—but Gimli claimed its life first. He swung his axe so hard the point could be seen through the creature's body, despite its heavy armor. He did the same with the next beast that came his way.

"Legolas, Avalain! Two already!" he shouted in triumph.

"Try fourteen, my dear!" cried Avalain, leaping back to avoid a hostile sword.

"I'm on seventeen!" shouted Legolas, a grin on his face.

Gimli was apparently not expecting this answer. "What!" he exclaimed. "I'll have no pointy-ear outscoring me!" With that, he raised his axe and, with renewed spirit, swung it mightily. It landed in a very unfortunate spot for the Uruk-hai, and due to its weakening, Gimli was able to finish it off easily.

Legolas, meanwhile, had shot two more arrows cleanly into two more targets. "Nineteen!"

Avalain laughed, though her laughter did not last long as Uruk-hai surrounded her on both sides. With a gasp, she ducked and hit the floor—the blades directed towards her were guided into the bodies of the Uruk-hai instead.

Laughing again, she leapt up and raced over to Haldir, who was masterfully tackling three beasts on his own. Though he was doing perfectly fine, she didn't wish to risk the off-chance that one of the creatures got in a lucky shot. Within another minute, the three beasts were all lying upon the stone wall, defeated.

Haldir sprinted off to another of his soldiers who was wounded and taking on a rather bloodthirsty monster. This left Avalain with a few seconds of rest before she was forced to lunge backward to avoid a sword point thrust at her neck. She raised her sword and batted the Uruk-hai blade away—deciding to take Gimli's tactic, she kicked the beast between the legs and quickly beheaded it.

Time blurred into something unimportant. For hours on end, Avalain whirled around, dodging, stabbing, slicing. More than once, she handed a boy of Rohan one of her knives so he could defend himself better—she attempted to gather a number of them around her so that she could protect them. Around her now were four boys, all of whom were fighting back to back with axes or some of the fallen Uruk-hai's swords or the knives Avalain had given them.

A sharp stab filled Avalain when she was reminded of the hobbits.

Filled with a new fire of hope for her survival—she had to survive, for the hobbits—she fought fiercer than she believed herself capable, seeing how long she'd been going at it. Before long, Avalain's kill count was twenty-six.

Grinning, she reached back for an arrow in her quiver since an Elf far away needed assistance—her heart fell when she felt it was her last arrow.

But determined not to falter, Avalain fitted the arrow in her bow and let it loose. It was barely quick enough to save the life of her kinsman.

At this point, Avalain was reminded of her _**own **_friends. Desperate to know what had befallen them, she grabbed a boy's hand and shouted, "Follow me!" They quickly obeyed.

Avalain was forced to stop and kill an interfering fiend more than once. She also had to take detours to avoid scenes where the death of one of the four boys behind her was likely.

There was a scream from behind her, and Avalain whirled around to see one of the boys being grabbed by an Uruk-hai. Without hesitation, she chucked the knife in her hand straight past the boy and into the skull of the Uruk-hai. The boy screamed again as he was dropped. The beast's body began to collapse upon him.

But the Elvish girl launched under the body herself. She pushed the boy out of the way and cried, "GO! Be careful!" She was then forced to leap up and take on another Uruk-hai.

After telling the boys to find some another who would protect them, Avalain was again alone. She was no longer afraid to leap into dangerous and seemingly hopeless scenes.

As Avalain traveled along all the edges of the stone arches, she was finally able to hear a more than welcome voice—"SEVENTEEN! EIGHTEEN! NINETEEN! TWENTY! TWENTY-_**ONE…!**_"

For the first time in hours, Avalain laughed. It appeared Gimli had somehow managed to situate himself on top of the wall's ledges, in between two Uruk-hai ladders. He was now indulging himself to a killing fest; all he had to do was swing his axe rhythmically in between said ladders.

Avalain thought vaguely to herself that she needed to gain a bigger lead. She had thirty-three, and Gimli was only behind her by twelve now.

Restraining a smile at such childish thoughts, she continued on, knowing that Gimli would be all right. She glared around for a sight of fair hair, but with Elves beyond count fighting alongside her, it was admittedly hard to distinguish which one was Legolas.

"CAUSEWAY! CAUSEWAY!" shouted another familiar voice. Avalain whirled around to see it was Aragorn who was frantically pointing at, sure enough, the causeway. The Uruk-hai had formed a barrier of shields so that they could proceed to the barred doors. The arrows shot at the Uruk-hai only bounced off the iron shields—for some reason, however, the Uruk-hai began falling. Avalain gasped as she realized it was more Uruk-hai with a large log… something to break the door down with.

Something else caught her eye, however, distracting her. It was an Uruk-hai with a flaming white torch in his hand.

Aragorn saw it, too. Avalain did not know why the Uruk-hai with the torch was such a big deal… until she realized that its comrades were cheering barbarically, waving their hands and chanting… it seemed almost like a ritual. The beasts were acting as if they had already won.

That was when she realized what she was standing over.

"BRING HIM DOWN!" Aragorn screamed in Elvish. "LEGOLAS! KILL HIM!"

Avalain gasped. If Legolas didn't shoot him, he would light the torch into the mines the Uruk-hai must have placed below, in the small culvert, the only weakness of Helm's Deep.

Legolas's first arrow made its way into the Uruk's shoulder. Frantic, Avalain withdrew her last spare knife and desperately chucked it downward.

The knife landed in the creature's heart just as another arrow sprouted from its skull.

But the momentum of the Uruk-hai could not be stopped. It tumbled into the small culvert—

An earsplitting, ground-shaking _**BOOM **_filled the earth and air. Avalain only had time to lock eyes with Aragorn before they were both blown up into the air. Legolas also went flying, as did Gimli, though Avalain did not see either of them.

Avalain landed in the water where the small culvert had been. She groaned as she raised her head—her hair was damp; her dress weighed her down. She saw Gimli struggling to stand now that his heavy battle armor was soaked.

She grabbed onto his arm; reinforcements were staring at them, but as she watched, Avalain realized they were looking beyond them.

She turned her head to see the charging ranks of Uruk-hai.

Avalain looked down at Gimli. She saw the same look in his eyes. "Together?" he asked. She nodded. As one, they charged the ranks of Uruk-hai, hoping to take down as many as they could, side-by-side, until they would be overwhelmed.

A voice shouted their names. "AVALAIN! GIMLI!" Then in Elvish, "CHARGE!"

And then Aragorn was beside her, his sword an arc of silver as it maimed and beheaded countless numbers of Uruk-hai. Even as Avalain turned around, she gasped as a monster had raised its sword. It was lowering—this would be it—

"NO!" Aragorn lunged forward and sliced off the monster's hand, the sword it had been holding dropping to the ground.

The Uruk-hai, outraged at its loss, grabbed Aragorn's throat. Avalain gasped and cut off its other arm before driving her blade into its skull. The light in its eyes dimmed; it fell into the water with a loud _**splash!**_

__As Aragorn recuperated, Gimli and Avalain protected him and made sure no Uruk-hai could draw close. After another moment, Aragorn was back to indisposing the beasts as magnificently as he had been previously.

Just then, there was a shout from Théodred. Avalain realized she had not seen him since he was smiling and thanking her for bringing her kinsman to their aid. "Aragorn! Fall back! Get to the Keep!"

He nodded in response, and Avalain watched him for a moment. "NO!" she screamed, seeing a brute draw upon his back. Using a spell, she launched herself at the Uruk-hai, drawing its attention away from Théodred. The Uruk and Avalain tumbled down a number of steps, which knocked the wind out of the Elvish princess. When they finally reached the bottom, the Uruk-hai hardly seemed fazed. Avalain's vision was turning fuzzy.

Now it was Théodred's turn to shout, "NO!" and leap upon the Uruk-hai. He withdrew hunting knives and sliced the beast's head clean off its shoulders before leaping nimbly off its back and standing above Avalain, who was still dizzy.

"Need a hand?" he asked with a grin.

Avalain smiled grimly and took it—at least five more Uruk-hai enclosed them. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Aragorn and Gimli rush to the Men and Elves who had not heard the order to retreat. She knew that there would be no help for her or Théodred this time…

And then the sound of metal grinding against stone entered her ears. Her gaze darted up to see Legolas, who had thrown a shield upon some steps and was sliding down it, shooting one, two, three, four, five arrows at the banes surrounding her and Théodred. Legolas then launched off the shield, propelling it into another Uruk-hai's armor so deeply it emerged clean out the other side.

Legolas hopped down from the shield and ran to the Prince of Rohan and the Princess of Rivendell. "We should go. We cannot linger," he said, nodding towards the two. Both sprinted after him as he led the way to the Keep.

Before long, the trio had caught up with Aragorn, who was shouting back to Haldir, "Haldir! Fall back to the Keep!" When Haldir nodded, he shouted back to his soldiers to retreat—another Uruk-hai crept to his back.

"_**Behind you!**_" warned Avalain, but she did not have any more weapons except her sword, and she needed that. Haldir was too slow…

The blade sliced along his back.

Avalain screamed. Aragorn called Haldir's name. Legolas shouted in fury.

Haldir fell to his knees on the ground.

Aragorn broke free of those surrounding him and bolted up to Haldir. More Uruk-hai reached Avalain and the others, and they were again in combat.

Once the quartet was free, they all searched frantically for Aragorn. He was beside a lifeless Haldir—but with a bellow of rage, he sliced down a ladder and jumped upon the rails. Just before the ladder could crash into the ground, he leapt off it and crushed a good number of Uruk-hai.

Gimli and Legolas rushed back to Aragorn to help him. Théodred and Avalain remained behind so that when the three of them would return, they could have a clear path to the Keep.

Avalain fought fiercely despite the tears welling up in her eyes. Haldir had been a good, strong Elf. He deserved life, not death, and most certainly not a death in war.

Her fury paid off as fuel for violence—when Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli all returned, they were able to sprint to the Keep within a matter of seconds.

When they reached the Keep, Aragorn and Gimli split up to locate Théoden. Avalain and Théodred decided to remain as a pair so they would have one another's back while Legolas chose to return to the upper arches.

"Can you believe we're doing this again?" asked Théodred as he and Avalain fought. "Escaping battles one week and nearly dying—before long, we're back in the thick of war?"

Avalain laughed bitterly. Her sword decapitated an Uruk-hai. "Of course. The Dark Lord continues to get stronger as our hope slowly diminishes. It is the nature of the beast, my friend!"

Now it was Théodred to smile. "A pity it has to be this way, though, isn't it?"

"Yes… that it is." Avalain watched as Théodred's sword flew through an Uruk-hai's armor as if it were paper.

Just then, the sound of cracking wood entered their ears. Avalain and Théodred whirled to see the door burst open and break into splinters. Uruk-hai started pouring into the fortress; the Men who had previously been blocking it sprinted past the duo as Théoden shouted, "They have broken through! The castle has been breached… RETREAT! RETREAT! Into the Keep!"

Aragorn sprinted to Avalain and Théodred and shouted, "Inside, get inside! Get the others inside!"

"LEGOLAS!" screamed Avalain, knowing he wouldn't be far behind. She was right—after she shouted his name, Legolas leapt down from a high arch and landed nimbly beside her. She guided a few Men in front of her so she could give them a head start.

Théodred started pulling her along, but she shook her head and shouted, "Not yet!"

She bent down and grabbed a few knives that were lying about. As some of the Men who were injured did their best to retreat into the Keep, she launched the projectiles with deadly accuracy. The front row of Uruk-hai fell dead. Seeing this strategy, Théodred and Aragorn remained behind to give more Men the chance to escape. Gimli scrambled around, gathering knives and other lethal objects for them to launch.

When the last of the Men made it into the Keep, the four sprinted towards the doors. As soon as they were inside, the doors slammed shut with a promising _**BOOM! **_Immediately after, Men pushed heavy objects in front of the door. Avalain pushed a large crate of lead and pewter shields with help from Théodred and Gamling. After the Men had shoved everything they could in front of the door, she slumped across the wall in pure exhaustion. She estimated the barrier could last for an hour…

As the Men searched mightily for anything else that could help barricade the entrance, Théoden watched with increasing dismay. At last, he said, "The fortress is taken! It is over…"

Aragorn, hearing this, marched over to the King of Rohan. "You said this fortress wouldn't fall while your men defend it! They are still defending it! They have _**died**_ defending it!" Hearing Théoden's silence, Aragorn turned to the next matter at hand. "Is there no other way for the women and children to get out of the caves?" Seeing the looks on Théoden's and Gamling's faces, asked he with increasing apprehension, "Is there no other way?!"

Gamling was the first to respond. "There is one passage. It leads into the mountains. But they will not get far, the Uruk-hai are too many."

Pushing him toward the women and children, shouted Aragorn, "Send word for the women and children to make for the mountain pass. And barricade the entrance!"

"So much death…" said Théoden suddenly. "What can Men do against such reckless hate?"

Answered Aragorn, "Ride out with me. Ride out and meet them."

"For death and glory," mumbled Théoden.

"For Rohan," contradicted Aragorn. "For your people."

Spoke Gimli then, "The sun is rising."

Avalain glanced over to the window. True to his word, dawn was arriving. White light glimmered into the Keep.

"Yes," said Théoden. "Yes… The horn of Helm Hammer-hand shall sound in the Deep one last time!"

"Yes!" exclaimed Gimli.

They rushed to grab the horses. Before long, Aragorn, Avalain, Théoden, Théodred, Legolas, and Gamling were all upon horses in the midst of the Keep. They ordered the remaining Men to go and defend the women and children in the caves…

As the door shuddered on its hinges, said Théoden, "Let this be the hour when we draw swords together. Fell deeds awake… now for wrath, now for ruin, and a red dawn!"

Gimli reached the horn of the Helm Hammer-hand… the bass horn sounded through the air, causing a ringing in the ears of those who survived. Again and again the horn sounded—

The door suddenly burst open. All could see the faces of snarling Uruk-hai as they prepared to storm the room.

"_**Forth Eorlingas!**_" shouted Théoden, and the horses, at the summons of their riders, ran straight towards the oncoming army.


	17. Chapter 17

Avalain awoke close to the end of the night, all her memories returned to her. She remembered the celebration that had been started for the victory at Helm's Deep, the news she had received during the celebration, and the way she had attempted to forget the pain she'd felt upon learning that Faramir was dead.

All that returned to her in greater force than before. Tears instantly sprung to the Elvish girl's eyes, and though they were of sorrow of Faramir's death and anger at Gandalf's refusal to let her travel to Osgiliath, now there was something else added to them—shame from the way she had tried to forget her anguish.

To avoid waking the others, Avalain carefully disentangled her legs from the sheets and crept out the back door. She did not bother to grab a cloak for the chilly early spring air… she felt she deserved to be cold as penance for what she had done.

She stood outside, gazing off in the direction of Gondor. She wondered how Faramir had met his death… Undoubtedly he would have gone down fighting… Was he saving other Men, or preventing the Orcs from capturing Osgiliath? Or had he been ambushed?

Such thoughts only brought along more tears.

Though Avalain succeeded in being alone for nearly an hour, before long, someone found her.

"Avalain?" asked a voice. She did not have to turn around to know who it was.

"Hello, Théodred," she answered thickly, her voice fraught with grief. "What are you doing awake?"

"I've not been able to sleep," he responded. "I wish I could say otherwise for you."

She laughed, though the sound was weak. "I wish I could, too… I'm sorry for the way I acted earlier. I had only thought that the drink might give me a couple hours… just a couple hours of peace… I've never felt as empty as I do now."

There was a silence. After a minute, footsteps across stone entered her ears. "You do not have to be alone, Avalain. There are many who love you. They can help."

"I know what you wish to say, Théodred," sighed Avalain wearily. She did not want to say this; she did not wish to break his heart. But she did not love him, and he did not deserve to live a life with a woman who did not, nor ever truly would, love him. "And I wish I could say the same to you. I truly do. But I cannot."

"What do you mean?" asked the Prince of Rohan. He was beside her now, looking into her eyes as she gazed at the fading stars. More tears threatened to spike her eyes, but Avalain resisted. She had shed enough tears to last a lifetime in that night.

So Avalain closed her eyes before continuing. "I wish I loved you, Théodred. I know that you care for me in a way that I wish I could care for you. I have tried, recently, to feel as such for you. I have. But I do not love you. I am sorry… but you deserve someone better than me. You deserve someone better than a broken girl."

Avalain trailed off. She did not dare open her eyes to see the look on Théodred's face.

"How did you know?" he asked quietly.

"I've seen it," replied she, her head lowering. "I have seen the look in your eyes when you look at me and remembered the looks of others."

There was another silence as Théodred processed her words. Finally, said he, "What if I told you that I do not wish to love anyone better, as you say, than yourself?"

A small smile formed on Avalain's face. "I could not give you the love you deserve. And even if I could, it would not be recently. It would perhaps be years from now, after you have aged. My heart has suffered too many blows to truly love another. You are a wonderful person, Théodred. You have much to live for, and many who could fall in love with you in a way I cannot. Please don't give yourself to me when I cannot do the same."

"You admitted that one day, you could love me."

"I do not know how likely that would be, nor how soon," answered Avalain. "Théodred… I know you do not love me alone. And I tell you now; your time would be better spent with Éowyn. She loves you as well, did you know? It is only a matter of you _**and **_her seeing it. There is where your happiness lies. Not with me."

This seemed to surprise him. "Éowyn loves me?"

The smile on Avalain's face grew. "Yes, that she does. I have seen it in her eyes. She is confused right now, however… it is not only you whom she loves. But in time… in time, she shall see that her happiness lies with you, just as you shall realize your happiness lies with _**her.**_ Trust me, Théodred. I want nothing more right now than to know that there is still love in the world."

Finally, said Théodred, "Thank you for telling me, Avalain. I hope that you will accept my offer of friendship. I'm sorry to burden you, after what has happened…"

"You have not burdened me at all," responded Avalain, opening her eyes and turning to face the Prince of Rohan. "If anything, you have given me a spark of hope in the midst of my darkness. To know that you may yet find a happy ending gives me a chance to reflect on lighter thoughts. Thank you, Théodred. And I am very happy with remaining as your friend. As I said, you are indeed a wonderful person." She stepped forward and kissed his forehead before murmuring another, "Thank you."

Théodred smiled as Avalain took a step backward. And then she was again gazing at the stars, as if she had never seen him. The Prince of Rohan noticed and took his cue to leave. As he walked off, though she did not know it, his mind was swimming with what he had just learned.

Avalain subjected herself to the pure starlight, the light that was full of memory. She deposited all her memories of her and Faramir into their care so they may forever guard them.

She felt a bit freer afterward.

But not five minutes later, a dark chill filled the air. Though it had not yet arrived in its entirety, Avalain knew that it would be coming quickly…

Filled with anxious foreboding, the Elf girl decided to return to sleep. She hoped the feeling of darkness was only fatigue…

She returned to the room just in time to see Pippin fall to the ground, the stone of Saruman flashing orange and yellow in his hands.

Avalain shrieked and rushed past Merry, who was shouting for help. Her eyes were locked on Pippin, who was thrashing upon the ground, a silent scream upon his face. She ran to the hobbit and, without hesitation, yanked the orb out of his hands.

Fire erupted all over her skin. She felt the dark power she'd sensed earlier emanating from this very orb—though she closed her eyes, Avalain saw the outline of a great and lidless eye, wreathed in an everlasting flame. For a split second, the pain she'd been feeling relented, replaced with awe…

But then, Sauron laughed. It was a deep laugh that would be forever engraved in her brain. A fuzzy image appeared in the orb, in her mind, as he laughed; after a moment, Avalain saw that it was Osgiliath. There were Men there—she saw Faramir leading a charge…

And then an Orc squadron leapt upon the Men from above. Faramir raised his sword, but it was too late.

The Orc Commander shoved his blade through his heart.

Avalain had already fallen to her knees from the pain. But now, her knees could not support her weight. She saw the blood blossoming from Faramir's chest, saw it pour upon the gray stones of the stone courtyard. Saw the surprise and devastating peace and paleness of his face as he fell… Avalain had suffered through the night. But this was the last straw. With absolute anguish and rage—she screamed. It was only a moment later that she realized she was screaming a word. "_**NOOOOO!**_"

Sauron laughed again.

The image disappeared.

Avalain gasped and arched her back upward. She coughed and sputtered. Sweat poured down her forehead. She blinked a number of times before seeing that Aragorn had seized the stone—the palantír—from her hands. Now it was _**he **_who was twisting and writhing upon the ground.

After a visible struggle, Aragorn let the palantír drop from his hands. It rolled around on the floor; Gandalf tossed a blanket over it.

"Fool of a Took!" he bellowed, turning to face the three who were now sprawled upon the floor.

Aragorn, with Legolas's help, hauled himself up from the ground. He had suffered the effects of the palantír the least, so he was least affected. Avalain and Pippin, however, were not as lucky.

Gandalf rushed to the hobbit first. Pippin and Avalain had held the orb for the same amount of time, but the wizard knew that the Rivendell Elf had a strong constitution.

As it was, Avalain did not need the wizard's assistance. She, with aid from Legolas as well, rose. With shaking legs, she sat down on Pippin's bed as Gandalf tended to him. She could not keep back more tears, much to her frustration.

Aragorn sat next to her. "Avalain, it's all right. He cannot hurt you anymore."

"I saw—he showed me—death," gasped Avalain, unable to string two words together. "His death—he _**is **_dead…"

With that, she broke down once more. She rose and sprinted out of the room, back to where Théodred had found her just a half hour ago.

She glared up at the sky, towards Mordor. She kept shaking. But soon, her sadness morphed into something else. Fury.

"_**I will kill you!**_" she screamed. She wished Sauron could hear her. She was furious for him making her feel this way, for showing her Faramir's death. She wished she was in Mordor, or at least beside Frodo so that, while he took the Ring to Mount Doom, she could be a distraction in Barad-Dûr. A wonderful fantasy of her destroying the Great Eye sprouted in her mind. "_**I swear on everything that is good in Middle-Earth that you—shall—die!**_"

She wished Sauron could have heard her.

When she felt she was ready, Avalain returned. Her tears had dried, but her rage was still palpable. When she entered the room, all felt her change in aura.

Gandalf, however, paid no mind to her. His attention was still on Pippin. He had succeeded in awaking the hobbit from his trance, and he proceeded to question him. "What did you see?"

Pippin gasped once or twice before responding, "A tree… there was a white tree in a courtyard of stone. It was dead. The city was burning!"

"Minas Tirith?" asked Gandalf. "Is that what you saw?"

"I saw… I saw him!" replied the hobbit with difficulty. "I could hear his voice in my head."

"And what did you answer? Speak!" exclaimed the wizard.

Pippin swallowed. "He asked me my name. I didn't answer… he hurt me!"

"What did you tell him about Frodo and the Ring?" queried the wizard, his gray eyes wide with apprehension. Everyone knew that if Pippin had said anything, the quest could very well be in danger…

There was a pause before Pippin swallowed again and shook his head. He looked Gandalf in the eye and answered, "Nothing. I said nothing."

The wizard watched him for a moment. Then he sighed. Avalain heard it was out of relief… Gandalf finally rose and offered Pippin a hand. As the hobbit stood up, Gandalf said, "I shall tell Théoden what has happened. When day comes, we shall all have to speak together."

With that, he whisked off, leaving everyone else to either return to sleep or wait until the council that would be early in the morning.

Four hours later, the King of Rohan called the council. Théodred, Éomer, Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, Gandalf, Merry, Pippin, and Avalain all answered his summons. Éowyn and Eleanor, not to be left out, joined even though Théoden asked if they would remain in their chambers, though he hadn't been very firm.

Hark the Ladies' disobedience.

Gandalf was the first to speak. "There was no lie in Pippin's eyes. A fool… but an honest fool he remains. He told Sauron nothing of Frodo and the Ring. We've been strangely fortunate. Pippin saw in the palantír a glimpse of the enemy's plan. Sauron moves to strike the city of Minas Tirith. His defeat at Helm's Deep has showed our enemy one thing. He knows the heir of Elendil has come forth." Gandalf paused for a moment to glance at Aragorn. Then he continued. "Men are not as weak as he supposed; there is courage still, strength enough perhaps to challenge him. Sauron fears this. He will not risk the peoples of Middle-Earth uniting under one banner. He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground before he sees a King return to the throne. If the beacons of Gondor are lit, Rohan must be ready for war."

Gandalf's speech was impressive, but the look in Théoden's eyes was stony. "Tell me… why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours? What do we owe Gondor?"

Hearing this, whispered Aragorn to the wizard, "I will go."

"No," contradicted Gandalf.

"They must be warned!" exclaimed Aragorn.

"They will be," said the wizard. He leaned close to Aragorn and murmured softly, "You must come to Minas Tirith by another road. Follow the river and look to the black ships…" Then to all, he said, "Understand this. Things are now in motion that cannot be undone. I ride for Minas Tirith… and I won't be going alone."

With those words, the wizard's gaze landed on Pippin. The hobbit looked at him warily, wondering if he was to travel to Minas Tirith with the wizard.

Avalain stepped forward. "Gandalf," she said, staring him in the eye. "You told me that fate would bring me to the country of Gondor. I ask you now if I am able to ride beside you as you travel to Minas Tirith."

Gandalf asked, "Will you ride to Minas Tirith, or stop in Osgiliath?"

"I shall ride to Minas Tirith," replied Avalain, her head held high. "I have a feeling about the City of Kings… I shall ride with you the entire way."

Now the wizard smiled. "Good! I should not have let you stop in Osgiliath anyway. You shall come with me and Peregrin to Gondor. Meet me in the stables in a half hour, Avalain." With that, he walked out of the room.

Avalain walked towards Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. She had traveled with them for a very long time; the idea of leaving them was strange. But she still felt that sense of being drawn towards the White City…

"I'm sorry I'm leaving you," she said to them, a hopeful smile upon her face, "but I hope you understand. After all, before long, I will be seeing you again."

Legolas was the first to smile at her. "Be careful," he said in Elvish. "Look after yourself, my friend." Then, in the Common Tongue, added he, "I have a feeling you shall be changed after your journey without us."

Avalain nodded. "Perhaps."

Gimli was the next to grin and say gruffly, "Well, looks like you'll be heading out without us. Take care, would you? Make sure you guard all your sides."

The Elvish girl laughed. "Worry not, Gimli, I will."

"Avalain," said Aragorn afterward. She turned to look at him and saw the smile upon his face. "Remember that no matter what you find in the White City, there is always hope."

She inhaled slowly, a smile starting to spread over her face. "Thank you, Aragorn. I needed someone to remind me."

Then she turned to Théodred, Éomer, and the Ladies of Rohan. "You four have been wonderful friends these past ten days. I'm very grateful for having met you. Be careful when the battle arrives, Théodred, Éomer. But I am confident your strength shall prevail. Eleanor, Éowyn… I trust in your abilities to keep your country alive and safe. I have faith in all of you."

"You make it sound like you're saying goodbye for more than just a few days," remarked Eleanor, troubled.

The smile on Avalain's face became wistful. "I do not know if I shall see you again. I do not know what I shall do, depending on what happens in the White City. I may choose to join Osgiliath's ranks. I am not sure. And so I am telling you what I know. That you are all strong, wonderful people."

Hearing this, Éowyn embraced Avalain, Eleanor following shortly afterward. Whispered Eleanor in Avalain's ear, "Whatever you do, I know you will do for him and for you. And I shall support it, no matter what it is."

"Thank you," mumbled Avalain in return. Then she turned to the two Men. She decided to embrace them as well, just in case she never _**would **_see them again. When she hugged Théodred, the Elvish girl made sure to whisper, "Remember what I said…" in his ear.

She felt his smile. "I will."

When Avalain hugged Éomer, she laughed and exclaimed, "Thank you for putting up with the anti-me."

"The anti-you?" repeated Éomer in confusion.

"The drunk me," was the answer.

All four laughed at this, and finally, Avalain turned to Théoden King. "Thank you, my Lord, for being the strong King you are. Rohan would suffer without you."

Théoden smiled at her, though he said nothing.

Realizing that leaving sooner would be better than later, she called for Merry and Pippin to follow her outside. As Avalain left the room, she did not look back.

Gandalf was waiting for them outside. He said nothing as the trio approached him. Instead, he swept off, his white cloak swishing on the air at his abrupt movement. Avalain and the hobbits were left with no other choice except to follow.

Once they were heading towards the stables, Gandalf finally spoke. He sounded quite aggravated. "Of all the inquisitive hobbits, Peregrin Took… you are the worst! Hurry!"

Asked Pippin to Merry, "Where are we going again?"

Instead of answering his friend's question, asked Merry stonily, "Why did you look? Why do you _**always **_have to look?"

"I don't know… I can't help it!"

"You never can."

"I'm sorry, all right?" exclaimed Pippin, not sure why his friend was mad at him. Seeing Merry stop and turn around, he added, "I won't do it again!"

Merry sighed. "You don't _**understand, **_do you?" He lowered his voice. "The Enemy thinks you have the Ring! He's going to be looking for you, Pip. We've got to get you out of here."

Pippin looked surprised. "And you… you're coming with me?"

Merry didn't answer. He continued after Gandalf, who was already in the stables, and Avalain, who was awaiting them in the entrance.

Still confused, Pippin followed.

As Gandalf saddled Shadowfax, and Avalain prepared Brismath for the journey, asked Pippin, "How long is the journey to Minas Tirith?"

"Three days, as the Nazgûl flies. And you'd better hope we don't have one of _**those **_on our tail," added Gandalf oh-so-reassuringly.

That was when Merry held out a pouch to Pippin. The angry look on his face morphed to exasperation as he said, "Here… something for the road."

Aghast, asked Pippin, "The last of the Longbottom Leaf?"

"I know you've run out," replied Merry. "You smoke too much, Pippin."

Pippin looked flabbergasted. "But we'll be seeing each other soon! Won't we?"

Merry took a step back. "I don't know. I don't know what's going to happen." Avalain noticed tears beginning to well in Merry's eyes. She bent down to him and, as she had with Frodo and Sam, withdrew a knife.

"Keep this, my brave hobbit," said she with a small smile. "May it defend you well. Be safe until we return, won't you?" Avalain did not wait for a response. She kissed his forehead before throwing her leg over Brismath and seating herself on the saddle.

Noting that she was ready, said Gandalf to his horse, "Ride, Shadowfax. Show us the meaning of haste."

Shadowfax neighed and reared before bursting through the stable door—"Merry!" cried Pippin as he was led away. Avalain looked back at Merry and smiled one last time. She was able to catch a smile before Merry sprinted up towards the watcher's tower so he could see them depart.

"Worry not, Pippin," said Avalain, trying to soothe him. "We shall see him again soon."

Unfortunately, Pippin did not seem comforted.

The next three days were filled with horse-riding and uncomfortable silence. Avalain was glad to be riding again, but now that she was actually heading _**toward **_the White City, her nerves returned. Her stomach often clenched, and she could not bring herself to eat as she thought… Was Sauron tricking her with his vision? He was certainly powerful enough for that. Or, even worse, what if he was showing her the truth?

The three days were agonizingly long.

Midmorning of the third day, the horses approached a small river. Shadowfax led the way, leaping majestically over the creek in three bounds before resuming his pace. Brismath quickly pursued, not to be outdone, even by the Lord of Horses.

From Shadowfax's back, Avalain heard the wizard exclaim, "We've just passed into the realm of Gondor!" Not another three hours passed before an impressive sight lay before them.

Avalain smiled at the familiarity of the place. The white spire of Ecthelion was visible even at this distance. The memory of its beauty was lucid in her mind… The smiles and laughter upon Boromir's and Faramir's faces entered her thoughts. She gasped sharply out of pain.

Both of them were dead.

The fact had never hit her as hard as it did then.

The Elvish princess could not bring herself to look at the tower a second time, not even as Gandalf stopped Shadowfax and mumbled, "Minas Tirith… City of Kings." Avalain kept her gaze firmly on the ground.

Before long, Shadowfax and Brismath entered the White City through the large gates. The horses ran up the seven spiral-like levels to the top of the city, where the tower of Ecthelion stood. As Men greeted Gandalf, Avalain, and Pippin and offered to stable the two horses, they walked towards the front doors of the palace.

"Oh, I remember seeing this place," sighed Avalain, almost against her will. The beauty of the city coaxed the memories and words from her. "I wish I could go back in time… My first visit was much simpler." She laughed with this last before gazing affectionately at Pippin. "I am very glad that you are able to see this, Pippin. My regret now is that the other three cannot…" She trailed off, her mind swimming with all her other regrets.

Pippin, however, had just noticed something familiar. "It's the tree," he whispered. Then he called, "Gandalf… Gandalf!"

"Yes, the White Tree of Gondor," answered the wizard. "The tree of the King. Unfortunately, Denethor is not King. He is a Steward only; a caretaker of the throne."

At this point, they had reached the doors. Gandalf stopped suddenly and made them both hold eye contact with him as he hissed quietly, "Now listen carefully. Lord Denethor is Boromir's father. To give him the news of his beloved son's death would be most unwise. And do not mention Frodo… or the Ring. And say nothing of Aragorn either…. In fact, it's better if you don't speak at all, Peregrin Took… those things apply to you as well, Avalain Nightshade. Except the speaking part. You may speak if you wish. But not about—"

"Yes, yes," interrupted Avalain impatiently. "I understand what I am not to do, Gandalf. Let us please continue on."

The wizard looked amused before he opened the doors. As he stepped into the hallway that would lead into the foyer, he gave the hobbit a significant look. Then he moved forward.

The foyer was composed of white and silver marble. The place was almost empty except a long, wooden table to the right, and a throne straight ahead. And sitting on that throne was a man with long gray hair and dark-blue robes. He was looking down at something in his hand.

Avalain's heart throbbed when she noticed it was the Horn of Gondor that Boromir had used to signal for help at Amon Hen…

She faltered for a moment, but quickly regained her composure. She could not mention Boromir now.

The eerie silence of the room was suddenly broken by Gandalf. "Hail, Denethor! Son of Ecthelion! Lord and Steward of Gondor. I come with tidings in this dark hour, and with council."

Lord Denethor finally looked up. Avalain could see grief in his eyes as he responded quietly, "Perhaps you come to explain this…" He held out the Horn of Gondor. "Perhaps you come to tell me why my son is dead."

Pippin inhaled sharply, the exact same time as Avalain. They exchanged glances… the hobbit was the first to speak. "Boromir died defending us… my kinsman and me. He fell defending us from many foes."

Avalain spoke next. "He was defending me as well, my Lord. I tried to save him. I tried. But he would not let me…"

"He would not let you?" gasped Denethor, his pale blue eyes searching Avalain's face. "How… did you try…?"

Avalain held out her necklace in answer. "This necklace stores the energy I put into it. At the time, my supply was relatively low. I did not know if I had enough energy to perform the spell that would save him—as it is, I will never know. For he stopped my hand, claiming that he was not worth my sacrifice. Understand, my Lord, that if I had been allowed to attempt to save him, I would have gladly given my life for his."

Denethor's eyes widened. "I realize now who you must be," he whispered. "Avalain Nightshade of Rivendell."

This surprised her. "You know of me?"

"He used to speak of you," was her answer. "He spoke of you with happiness. He told me, many times, how glad he was to have visited Rivendell three years past. It was always clear to me that he was in love with you."

Avalain gulped and took a step back. Her hand darted up to withdraw the pin in her hair. She stared at it for another moment. Then, replied she as nothing more than a breath of air, "Yes. I know."

"And I wish to know now… what did you say to him?"

The Elvish girl looked the Lord Denethor straight in the eye. "I told him the truth, as he lay dying. I told him I loved him."

Pippin jerked to look at Avalain. So did Gandalf. But she was not fazed. Her eyes were for the Steward of Gondor, who had frozen, almost as if he did not expect this answer. Finally, mumbled Denethor, "Then at least he would have died happily…"

He put a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes.

"My Lord," spoke Pippin again. He moved forward and knelt in front of the throne. "I offer my service, as it is, in payment of this debt."

This opened the Steward of Gondor's eyes. "This is my first command to you. How did you escape and my son did not, so mighty a man as he was?"

Responded Pippin sadly, "The mightiest man may be slain by one arrow… and Boromir was pierced by many."

The Lord Denethor inhaled sharply, putting his hand back to his forehead. It was clear he did not know how to take this, how to take the truth now that it was told to him.

A silence settled over the room until Gandalf moved forward and whacked Pippin's leg with his staff. "Get up!" he susurrated to the hobbit. Then, to Lord Denethor, he said, "My lord, there will be a time to grieve for Boromir, but it is not now. War is coming. The enemy is on your doorstep! As Steward, you are charged with the defense of this city. Where are Gondor's armies? You still have friends. You are not alone in this fight. Send word to Théoden of Rohan. Light the beacons."

But Denethor, being grief-stricken, did not take this well. "You think you are wise, Mithrandir. Yet for all your subtleties you have not wisdom. Do you think the eyes of the White Tower are blind? I have seen more than you know. With your left hand you would use me as a shield against Mordor, and with your right you would seek to supplant me. I know who rides with Théoden of Rohan. Oh yes. Word has reached me of this Aragorn, son of Arathorn. And I tell you now, I will _**not**_ bow to this Ranger from the North, last of a ragged house long bereft of Lordship."

"Authority is not given to you to deny the return of the King, Steward!" replied Gandalf harshly.

"The rule of Gondor is _**mine! **_And no other's," spat Denethor. Avalain stared between the wizard and the Steward, not sure what to make of this hostile exchange. She realized again that she was twirling the hairpin in between her fingers, as she had gotten so used to doing at this point…

Finally, Gandalf turned angrily towards the doors. Pippin, seeing no other choice, followed him. Avalain turned to do the same—

"Avalain Nightshade," said Denethor after her.

She stopped and turned around. He was looking at her, again with sorrow lining his face. "If you would, I wish to speak with you alone."

The Elvish princess looked back to Gandalf and Pippin, who were already exiting. Knowing that she could ask a guard to lead her to them later on, she nodded and replied, "Of course, my Lord." She walked back in front of the throne as the doors shut with a _**BANG!**_

__"How well did you know my son?" asked he curiously.

She smiled sadly. "Well enough. Four years past was when I met him… I was not in a very good place back then. I had thought a great friend of mine to be dead. I was reduced to waiting for him every day by the entrance of my city. But one day, your sons appeared. Faramir was injured—Boromir asked for my help. And so I met your sons… They made me smile and laugh for the first time in near thirty years."

Denethor listened to her speak with rapt attention. "As I understand it, you traveled back to Gondor with him a month later. He spoke of that."

Avalain's smile became more genuine. "Yes, that I did. He showed me the White Tower of Ecthelion… I have never forgotten it. He made fun of me, of my face when I saw it." A raw laugh escaped her. "I still remember his teasing."

"Why did you leave Rivendell with him and the others of your Fellowship?" asked Denethor.

Uh-oh, thought Avalain. This is where we must tread lightly…

Slowly did she respond. "My Lord, based on what you have said earlier, you know that answer as well as I. The eyes of the White Tower are most certainly _**not **_blind… let us not pretend that they are."

Denethor's smile grew amused. "A good answer."

Avalain did not know what to say.

"You continue twirling that hairpin between your fingertips," noted Denethor lightly. "It means something to you." This was a statement.

She sighed and nodded. "It… was a last gift from Boromir, before he died. After he refused to let me try to save him, he gave me this. He made me promise to remain happy… he made me promise to try and find love again, to find another reason to live. He asked me to be happy when I thought of him in the future. And I have tried. I have tried, my Lord. Soon, I hope, I shall be able to smile every time his face should surface in my mind."

The white gold of the hairpin glimmered out at her hopefully. It was as if Boromir himself agreed with what she had said.

"You truly cherish his memory?"

With a smile, responded Avalain, "Yes, of course."

"If that is the case—if you wish to prove to both him and me that you truly loved him—then you will not seek the love of another."

"If I…" repeated Avalain, but she quickly trailed off. Her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "My Lord, I do not understand what you mean."

"The love of another," said he. "You will not seek it. You must understand that to bind yourself to another Man, or Elf, will be an insult to his memory. If you truly loved him, you would never dare to dream about another."

Avalain's smile faded entirely as she retorted, "My Lord, Boromir's last request of me was that I remained Avalain the Joyful. He asked me to be happy. He asked me to find love again. Would you have me ignore his last request simply to prove to you my love for him?"

"If you wish to put it that way, yes," was the curt response.

She gasped. "That is not possible. It is too late for me to make that promise."

"Then you never truly loved him."

"I did," responded Avalain. She liked the Lord less by the minute. "You are not me. You do not know how I feel."

"It is simple enough to resist love," spat the Lord. His blue eyes were becoming dark. "Simply do not open your heart for others."

Avalain shook her head. "It is not that easy. If you were able to understand—"

"If I were able to understand," whispered he. "Do you not believe that I loved my own son? Do you not see me grieving for him now, at this very moment? I am capable of love, Princess of Rivendell. The question remains on if you can love as deeply as I."

Her gaze became a look of pure ice. "We define love differently, it seems."

The reply was a harsh laugh. "Indeed! Something we can finally agree on."

"I believe that shall be it, though." Avalain's voice was a jagged piece of steel at this point. Her rage at the Lord's demands raised her temper to a degree she had felt only one other time in her life. "I know you loved your son, my Lord. Not in the way I did, that is most certainly true. But there is a difference between your love and mine. _**I **_listened to him. My happiness was what he asked for with his dying breaths, and I shall strive to make that happen, despite the sorrow I still hold in my heart! Whereas _**your **_love is clouded; you wish only for your own interests now. You pretend he is still alive! You do not yet realize that Boromir—is—_**dead!**_"

Her shout echoed loudly over the marble. Both listened to it for a few seconds before Avalain added shakily, "_**That **_is the difference between you and me. I have made my peace with his passing. You have not. I am living my life as he asked me to… You cannot ask something different of me, and if you do, I shall not listen. I need not your blessing for the love of another—you are not my father."

The Steward of Gondor began shaking. "Then you never truly loved him."

Avalain held her head high. "Perhaps you may think so, my Lord. But I know better than to harken to your words for even a moment. You did not know how I loved him—I daresay it was deeply enough. Think upon how others might have felt when a friend died… and then increase that pain by twenty. Perhaps you shall understand then."

She glared at him and was pleased to see the Lord could not come up with another response. And so she seized this opportunity to add, "And know now that if you ask me to forsake my love again, it will be _**you **_to have insulted Boromir's memory. Not I."

With that, the princess turned on her heels and stormed towards the door. As she pushed them open, she stepped out onto the front step and slammed them shut with a loud _**BOOM!**_

__Once she turned around, Avalain saw Gandalf and Pippin standing close to the terrace of the seventh level of the city. Seething, she fumed over to them.

Gandalf felt her aura and raised an eyebrow. "I take it your conversation went well," said he, smirking.

"I understand your fury," snarled Avalain. "He is a disgrace. He understands not how anyone feels except himself; nor does he see past his own desires, thus contributing to his idiocy."

The wizard laughed softly before gazing out over the terrace. His eyes settled on the tempest of orange and black in the distance; a tempest of fire and smoke that rose beyond the mountains of Mordor.

Pippin looked back out to the chaos and murmured, "A storm is coming."

"This is not the weather of the world," replied Gandalf quietly. "This is a device of Sauron's making. A broil of fume he sends ahead of his host. The Orcs of Mordor have no love of daylight. So he covers the face of the sun to ease their passage along the road to war. When the shadow of Mordor reaches this city, it will begin."

Avalain looked uneasily at the Shadow. She guessed it would take another three days for the Shadow to reach the White City…

"Well! Minas Tirith. Very impressive. So where are we off to next?"

"Oh, it's too late for that, Peregrin," replied Gandalf, a grim smile etched on his face. "There's no leaving this city. Help must come to us…" And with that happy note, he walked away from the overlook and turned to face the guards of Minas Tirith. Seeing that the wizard was leaving, the Elf and the hobbit trailed after him.

Avalain spent the rest of the day wandering the streets of Minas Tirith. More than once she'd seen something familiar, something either Faramir or Boromir had shown her. A smile came upon her face when she'd notice something of the sort… but then that would fade, and a look of grief would override her.

The people of Minas Tirith noticed this—they started whispering of the Elf maiden whose ghosts, though held in loving memory, continued haunting her.

Before long, the Elvish girl found herself standing outside the gate of the city. The Men were kind enough to open it for her… she stood, staring at the ruins of Osgiliath, at the smoke rising. A few times, she heard the sound of clashing metal; a fierce desire to ride, or even run, to Osgiliath would arrive hearing the sounds of battle.

But she kept herself rooted, merely because Gandalf would be furious if she went. Before long, she told herself, she would receive his blessing.

Before long, he would let her go.

And so she traveled back through the gates, though her heart screamed at her to turn back around.

Soon, it was nighttime. The city was quiet… nothing could be heard except the occasional whisper of a late-night walker. Avalain was standing outside the balcony of Gandalf's and Pippin's room—she smiled knowing the wizard wanted to keep a close eye on the prurient hobbit. But the reason she was there herself was because the wizard called upon her to speak.

Pippin spoke first, however, since Gandalf had been silent previously. "So I imagine this is just a… ceremonial position," he said after a short swallow. "They don't actually expect me to do any fighting. Do they?"

Gandalf was still rather aggravated with Pippin pledging his service to the Steward of Gondor earlier, and so it was rather irately that he responded, "You're in the service of the _**Steward **_now. You'll have to do as you're told, Peregrin Took!"

Pippin raised an eyebrow at his iffy demeanor but said nothing, not even as Gandalf lowered his voice and muttered through his pipe, "Ridiculous hobbit. Guard of the Citadel."

The wizard started laughing, but since he was smoking, this was not a very fruitful combo. He almost began choking, but Pippin brought him some water to ensure that would not happen. Gandalf put a hand on Pippin's shoulder. "Thank you."

He drank the water, causing Avalain's lips to turn upward.

"The stars are veiled," she murmured. They had finally disappeared. She was suddenly brought back to the night Faramir had mentioned this to her. She hadn't noticed previously. "The Shadow creeps closer."

"Yes," mumbled the wizard gravely. "It will arrive soon."

Pippin joined the wizard and the Elf in standing on the balcony, overlooking the nonexistent stars and the fires of Mordor. "It's so quiet," remarked he.

"It's the deep breath before the plunge…" said the wizard.

The hobbit sighed. "I don't want to be in a battle, but waiting on the _**edge**_ of one I can't escape is even worse." He stopped for a moment, and then glanced towards Gandalf hopefully, as if an idea had sprung into his mind. "Is there any hope, Gandalf, for Frodo and Sam?"

Avalain smiled and recalled Aragorn's words. "There is always hope."

The wizard, however, responded differently. "There never was much hope… only a fool's hope." He said this last with a twinkle in his eye as he glanced at Pippin. Both listeners knew the hobbit was implied.

"Now… the reason I have called you here, Avalain," sighed the wizard. "Our enemy is ready. His full strength is gathered. Not only Orcs, but Men as well… Legions of Haradrim from the South. Mercenaries from the Coast. All will answer Mordor's call. This will be the end of Gondor as we know it. Here the hammer-stroke will fall hardest. If the river is taken, if the garrison at Osgiliath falls, then the last defense of this city will be gone."

Avalain sensed an opportunity. "If that is the case, would it not be a good idea for me to travel to Osgiliath?"

Gandalf glanced at her sideways. "I thought you wished to stay in Minas Tirith?"

"I chose to ride straight to Minas Tirith with you. I said nothing about not wishing to ride to Osgiliath from here."

The wizard smiled slightly. "Of course… loopholes. No, Avalain. I sense something dark is about to befall. I shall need your help in keeping that darkness at bay."

Filled with surprise, exclaimed the girl, "But you are the White Wizard! Surely there is no darker power, other than the Eye himself, greater than that!"

The lines in Gandalf's face became more pronounced. That increased even more as Pippin's eyes lit up and said the hobbit, "Yes! We have the White Wizard. That's got to count for something."

But their response was, "Sauron has yet to reveal his deadliest servant. The one who will lead Mordor's armies in the war. The one they say no living man can kill… The Witch-King of Angmar. You've met him before… he stabbed Frodo on Weathertop. He is the Lord of the Nazgûl, the Greatest of the Nine. Minas Morgul is his lair."

There was a silence as Avalain and Pippin absorbed this new information. Avalain had never known there was a special significance to the leader of the Nazgûl… She had always assumed that they formed a unit of equal importance…

As she thought dimly about the battle that was to come, a spire of green energy shot up from the right of the mountains of Mordor. The light shone through the dark clouds of the Shadow… Avalain gasped. She knew what was coming…

"We come to it at last. The great battle of our time. The board is set… the pieces are moving," murmured Gandalf. He shook his head and sighed. "Avalain, go and rest. We shall need it for the next few days…"

Hearing this was a firm note of dismissal, Avalain nodded and bade Gandalf and Pippin goodnight. She entered her own room and stood on the balcony there… she remained there for ten minutes before sighing and turning to the bed.


	18. Chapter 18

The following morning, Avalain awoke rather late. In fact, the only reason she woke up as early as she did was because Pippin had ventured into her room with a message from Gandalf; "Avalain! Wake up—Gandalf needs you."

Avalain grumbled to herself that this was not much detail at all, and the wizard really needed to work on his social skills in the future. But she arose all the same. She followed the well-rested hobbit out of the room, not able to keep back a grin seeing the one on Pippin's face.

"Why are _**you **_so smiley, dear one?" asked Avalain at last.

Her answer was, "Gandalf says he has something important for me to do. It's my chance to prove myself."

But at Pippin's answer, Avalain frowned somewhat. If Gandalf had something important for the hobbit to do… obviously, based on how serious conditions were becoming, this was not something light. It would indeed be important.

She did not express her concerns, however. She could not bring herself to point this out upon noting Pippin's excitement.

Before long, the hobbit led her out to a white stone bridge. There, the wizard waited. When they arrived, murmured Gandalf quietly, "Peregrin Took, my lad, there is a task that must be done. Another chance for one of the Shire-folk to prove their great worth. You must not fail me. You must climb the edges of the beacon, and light it. The fire will start a chain reaction that shall call Rohan for aid. Again… _**you must not fail me.**_"

Pippin nodded feverishly and rushed off to do the wizard's bidding.

Once he was gone, murmured Avalain, "Are you sure that was the best idea? Why not you, Gandalf?"

"Denethor would not let me close enough. Besides, his guards would stop me—no doubt he is anticipating this sort of move from me."

"So you have to outsmart him…" murmured Avalain. A smirk formed on her face. "Very well. I approve—if it makes Denethor look like a fool."

The wizard chuckled, pleasing her.

Together, Gandalf and Avalain waited for the spark that would light the chain reaction. Twenty minutes passed, and no fire had emerged. Avalain, using her Elvish vision, could see Pippin as he neared the beacon. She muttered his progress out of the corner of her mouth so Gandalf would know…

At last, he was standing atop the giant wood pile. He was reaching up for the oil canister—she laughed when he accidentally spilled it. But the hobbit, undeterred, grabbed a torch and lit the wood.

Gandalf broke into a grin seeing his success. Both he and Avalain watched as Pippin uncertainly clambered back down the wood pile and down the side of the beacon to where the others were waiting for him.

When Pippin arrived, the wizard put a hand on his back. "Very good, Peregrin Took!"

Pippin looked exhilarated both from the climb and the praise.

Gandalf watched as the next fire sprouted up to the west… "The beacon of Amon Dín," he murmured. His smile grew as yet another beacon was lit. With her Elvish vision, Avalain barely saw the fourth fire sprout up. She smiled, knowing the beacons would lead to Rohan.

"Hope… is kindled," whispered Gandalf.

That was when a blood-curling screech from the east filled the air.

Avalain, Gandalf, and Pippin all whirled around to see five Ringwraiths on Fell Beasts pursuing Men on horses. It looked like the Men were retreating from Osgiliath.

"Gandalf," murmured Avalain. A steely feel of purpose took over her. "Can you help me? I need to repay Sauron for the vision he gave me…"

Gandalf looked at her eyes and smiled, seeing what she was asking. He nodded and closed his eyes… both he and the Elvish girl concentrated—

And then Avalain felt a rush of power she had never felt before. Her necklace from Galadriel and her bracelet from Legolas and even her hairpin from Boromir glimmered with the excess amount of energy and power that had flowed into them… as the energy entered her.

"Avalain!" cried Pippin. "You're glowing!"

Sure enough, the princess had an aura of a golden white light surrounding her from head to toe. It illuminated her features, but also made her seem dangerous… Avalain's smile grew. "Worry not, Pippin," said Avalain. Her voice resounded through the air. "I have never felt better."

With an easy incantation, she summoned Shadowfax to the wizard and the hobbit. Gandalf swiftly mounted and pulled Pippin after him—"Where is Brismath?" asked the hobbit.

"I do not need him at this time."

Avalain began chanting in Elvish—even before she had finished the spell, she was floating in the air beside Shadowfax. She laughed. That too resonated through the sky. "You should lend me energy more often, my mentor."

Gandalf laughed; the sound was only a tinge weary. He urged Shadowfax out of the gate of Minas Tirith. Avalain followed close behind. They rode straight for the Men arriving to the White City. But while Gandalf rode, Avalain rose through the air. Her voice, her enchantment keeping her afloat was merely a trifle of energy compared to what she had remaining.

Before long, the wizard and hobbit were close to the Men. Avalain was just behind them… up close, she could see the five Ringwraiths were swooping low and plucking Men off their horses. In the jaws of one of the Fell Beasts was a horse. Its rider was nowhere to be seen.

Avalain breathed in deeply. A warm feeling consumed her—she chanted something different. She was level with one of the Fell Beasts, she was only twenty feet away from it.

She screamed and let loose the ball of energy that she'd built up. She flung it at the Beast and the Ringwraith—

They both shrieked as the ball of pure light incinerated them.

Avalain laughed again—she summoned another sphere of light. Her feeling of power diminished substantially, but she was firm with what she wanted to do. She closed her eyes and allowed the spell to drain the energy Gandalf had given her…

With another scream, she flung the second ball. It hurtled like a comet through the air and engulfed another Ringwraith's head. The fire, however, was enchanted, and it spread downward, wreathing the entire Wraith and its steed with the flame. Before long, it too disappeared.

Below her, the Men cheered. Avalain looked down just in time to see Gandalf raise his staff and summon a white light that would drive off the rest of the Ringwraiths. They would flee back to Minas Morgul… at least, until the battle would begin.

But Avalain was not satisfied with only killing two of the Wraiths. Though it was true she had decreased the number of Nazgûl, she felt like she had enough energy for one more spell.

And if she was wrong, what did it matter? Sooner or later, she would die.

Avalain decided to do something a little differently this time. With a twisted smile, she curled her fingertips. They bent so that they appeared like a witch's hand, in a grotesque form—she began her last chant. Her voice, her spell, echoed loudly over what seemed like the world. Her light was shining brightly around her.

There was the crack of glass.

She did not falter. She would keep at the spell.

And finally, it was ready. Avalain grinned at the Ringwraith that had frozen in the air upon its Fell Beast… it did not have eyes, but it watched her. Avalain sensed that it also watched her with _**fear.**_

__For the third and final time, she screamed.

The Ringwraith, with the ball of energy built up in its very body, imploded from the inside out. The Beast quickly followed its master in death.

Avalain laughed for the third and final time. She felt vulnerable—nearly all the energy Gandalf had given her was gone. But that was nothing compared to the triumph she felt… she had killed _**three **_Ringwraiths. She had destroyed three of Sauron's most powerful minions. She and Gandalf had done it.

The sound of cracking glass entered her ears again. Avalain looked down at her bracelet. The beautiful gift from Legolas, her dear friend, was cracking.

As she watched, it shattered.

She gasped.

The blue and green glass, the white diamond, broke apart. It still glowed brightly as it tumbled down to the fields of Pelennor below. Avalain could do nothing to stop it.

Her eyes were locked on the shattered remains until not even she could locate them. Without the bracelet—she had never taken it off, never, in fifty years—she felt exposed. Naked, even. Like a part of her had been taken away.

Her victory soured. She had lost something priceless to her…

But, remembered she, it was for the good of Middle-Earth.

Avalain realized then that she was still floating, and that the other two Ringwraiths had gotten away. Using close to the last of her gifted energy, Avalain flew back behind the gates of the city, paying no attention to the Men who gaped at her and praised her below.

Once she flew past the gate, she hovered next to Gandalf and Pippin. Avalain stared at her wrist. There was a small cut from where the glass had cut her. A trickle of blood ran down her hand.

She paid it no mind—her eyes had just located that white diamond pendant embedded in her palm. Far from feeling pain, she felt relief. She would at least be able to keep this last piece of her bracelet as remembrance of Legolas's gift.

Gandalf smiled and placed a hand on Avalain's shoulder. "You did very well."

Avalain's laugh became real. "Did I appear frightening?"

"You did indeed," replied Gandalf, winking at her. "Like a hellish angel sent to bring doubt to the Dark Lord and hope to Mankind."

Pippin nodded enthusiastically. "You're still glowing! It's like you're a star yourself…" He trailed off with wonderment.

Her laugh grew louder. It was then she heard a voice. But there was something wrong with it. It was grief-stricken and thick, as if it had just suffered a great loss. "Mithrandir!"

Avalain froze. She could not move, speak, breathe. The unmistakable sound of horse-hooves filled the air. "They broke through our defenses. They've taken the bridge and the west bank. Battalions of Orcs are crossing the river even as—"

The voice stopped short, like Avalain's heart had.

She turned around.

It was Faramir.

She opened her mouth. Faramir stared at her. For a moment, all was silent.

And then, said Faramir, "I don't believe it…" Slowly, as if he could not believe his own eyes, he shook his head. "You…"

"You're alive," gasped Avalain. Her heart leapt and pounded as if it had just been shocked… which of course it had been. But it did not stop escalating. He was alive. He was _**alive.**_

__"You _**were **_killed," he whispered, still shaking his head.

Avalain gawked for a moment, her panic and excitement palpable as she cried, "No! No, I wasn't! I'm alive." Avalain realized that she was still hovering in midair, still glowing with Gandalf's leftover energy.

Realizing this, she placed her hand over the wizard's. She concentrated mightily on returning his energy… the warm feeling she'd obtained slowly faded until she felt back to normal. Her feet touched back to the ground.

Faramir continued to stare at her. It was as if she was still a ghost, a hellish angel. Hearing his silence, whispered Avalain, "I'm alive."

There was another silence.

He swung himself off his horse. With three strides, he was standing in front of her. His hand found hers. He stared at it. "You… aren't…"

"No."

His arms were around her. Hers were around him. They were alive. Avalain again felt how swiftly her heart was pounding. She hoped he couldn't feel it—then she decided she didn't care. He was alive. Not dead. Not dead. The letter was wrong. Sauron deceived her. Alive.

Avalain was shaking from pure joy. "You're alive," she sobbed. It was then she discovered tears were leaking out of her eyes. "I thought—I thought you were dead!"

"I thought _**you **_were dead!" he continued, the anguish still in his voice. "I saw—the blade—through your _**heart**_—!"

"I was not in the fields," whispered Avalain. She buried her face in his shoulder. She did not let go. Neither did he. "I was nonexistent for a spare minute in time. I was neither there nor anywhere. I was nothing. The blade appeared through me during the minute I was not alive."

"Frodo and Sam think you're dead," he gasped. "I thought… I would never see you again."

"Neither did I, to you." Avalain was still shaking.

Faramir pulled away, only slightly. "How did you think I was dead?"

"Sauron tricked me," gasped she. Seeing Faramir's look of panic, she added to comfort him, "It was only a vision. I was shown a letter that said all of Gondor's Captains were dead. I still had hope. I was devastated—but I still had hope. And then, as Pippin looked into a palantír, and I seized it from him, Sauron showed me a vision… of your _**death!**_" The last was no more than a wail. She took a deep breath and calmed herself.

"It was only a mirage," he whispered. "An image…"

Avalain was suddenly aware that one hand was against her back, the other against the back of her head, pulling her close. Her tears immediately dissipated. "Yes. I know now." She did not know exactly how she managed to speak in that moment. Were it not for the fact that the world was about to end, everything would have been perfect.

As it was, she felt the many stares of the Men around them. She placed her hands on Faramir's arms and pulled away a little. A smile tugged at her mouth, and, seeing that he did not remember what had just happened around him, she whispered, "What happened at Osgiliath?"

"Oh, right," breathed he. He turned back to Gandalf. "The Orcs have taken the bridge and the west bank. Many are crossing the river."

"It is as the Lord Denethor predicted!" shouted one Man. "Long has he foreseen this doom!"

Gandalf turned viciously toward the Man who'd spoken. "Foreseen and done nothing!" He turned back to Faramir. But the Man was staring at Pippin. "Faramir?" asked the wizard. Then, confirming what Avalain had told him during the celebration at Edoras, stated he, "This is not the first halfling to have crossed your path…"

Faramir shook his head. "No."

The twinkle in Gandalf's eye became brighter. But then, remembering what path Frodo was taking, murmured he, "Is Frodo taking the pass of Cirith Ungol?"

The Man nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. I tried to convince him otherwise, but he and Sam went off with that gangrel creature, that Gollum…" Faramir's voice was filled with distaste. He shook his head and faced Gandalf again. "I released them not ten days ago. They are probably on the outskirts of Cirith Ungol by now."

Gandalf looked both comforted and troubled. But he said nothing… he only nodded in thanks before trotting back off to the top level, leaving Avalain and Faramir.

They stared at one another. Finally, said Avalain, with a laugh, "I just cannot believe that, after what I've been shown, you're alive."

Faramir smiled. "I can't believe that, after what I saw with my own eyes, _**you're **_alive."

They exchanged a small smile before Faramir said, "We should follow Gandalf. At any rate, I must tell my father what has happened…" His voice lowered, and Avalain heard it.

"Your father is not an easy Man to please," muttered she, thinking on the previous day's conversation with him. "Do not feel bad with what he shall say…"

She heard him laugh. Her heart leapt again. Silence yourself, said she to it. He will hear! Even so, Avalain realized there was not a sound in the world more welcome to her than his laugh.

"How did you know that?" asked Faramir, still smiling. But seeing the expression on her face, he came to his own conclusions. "You've gotten into a little disagreement with him."

Avalain's smile became forced. She said nothing, but she nodded.

Seeing this, Faramir quickly changed topic. "Anyway—let us follow Gandalf."

He guided her up the slopes of the levels of the White City. As Avalain walked, she could not help but realize how much brighter and more beautiful the place was compared to the rest of the time she'd been in the city…

Up the whole way, Avalain and Faramir conversed. It was still surreal to Avalain, the fact that he was standing right in front of her. She could not help but realize how much lighter she felt. The weight over her heart was gone.

But reaching the Tower of Ecthelion, they both stopped and stared ominously at the doors that led to the throne room. Said Faramir, "Please wait out here for me."

Avalain's eyes widened. "Are you sure…"

"Yes." Faramir's face was grave, but certain. "I chose to let Frodo go."

"After I pleaded with you!" contradicted Avalain, her voice rising somewhat.

Faramir smiled at last. "Perhaps you did, but I would've let him go anyway. My father has always been a power hungry Man. I know, and always have, that he would have fallen to the power of the Ring instantly. With Boromir being rather similar to him, I'm surprised he lasted as long as he did."

This caused Avalain to both be comforted and worried. But all she said was, "Please let me know what happens. I would not bear it if… something awful were to come out of this…"

"As it undoubtedly will," laughed Faramir. Though Avalain smiled, it was weakly; he noticed this and took her hand. "I will be back before long."

He did not wait for any more words before moving towards the doors. Avalain's gaze remained on him until they closed behind him.

Realizing that she had nothing else to do except wait, Avalain walked slowly to the terrace once more. Her eyes flew over the mountains of Mordor. Orange flecks appeared, more frequently and with more momentum than before. She dared to gaze upward… the Shadow of Mordor was more than halfway to Minas Tirith.

_It will probably be here by nighttime tomorrow…_

Avalain's heart fell. She had found Faramir. And now they were _**both **_going to die.

_You're getting ahead of yourself,_ thought she. _You don't even know if he cares for you the way you do for him. You will die, and he will die, and that will be the end of it. There is no dying together._

She spent another five minutes over the ledge, letting the wind brush her hair over her face. After a little while, she closed her eyes and let herself feel rather than see. She felt the darkness growing stronger, she felt the light fade…

Then it reappeared—"Avalain."

She whirled around, startled. She flushed upon realizing that of course it was Faramir again. He faced her with a small smile upon his face, but a burdened look in his eyes.

"What happened?" questioned Avalain immediately. Now that he was present, she impatiently and consciously brushed her hair away from her face.

Faramir smiled at this and moved forward to remove the last few strands from blocking her eyes. Avalain felt warm and hoped it wasn't noticeable that she was turning pink. Luckily for her, it must not have been, for he said, "The usual, quite honestly. He hears what happened, I get yelled at, then I leave."

But Avalain saw the look in his eyes. "There is something else you haven't told me. You cannot lie to me, Faramir, not without me knowing."

He laughed quietly and shook his head. His gaze fell to the ground. "I believe my father is starting to lose his mind. He thought he saw Boromir, which of course is impossible. He dismissed me after he realized what he was looking at was nothing more than an image."

Longing to comfort him, Avalain surprised herself by putting a hand on his arm. "It's all right… he is still grieving."

"What did you fight him about?"

The question was so sudden that Avalain was startled. But seeing that he was curious, she sighed. "He wished to speak to me about Boromir. As you know, he loved me, and I had been starting to fall in love with him as well. Your father queried me about that for a while—but then, he declared that for me to prove to him that I truly loved Boromir, I would never pledge my love for another."

Faramir made a noise in the back of his throat. Avalain tried to ignore it, but questions erupted in her mind. Was it a noise of disgust, or a repressed laugh?

"What did you say in return…?" his voice became softer.

"I said no, of course," replied Avalain, almost indignantly. "Boromir wished for me to love another and be happy, and I will honor that. At any rate, it would've been too late for me to promise your father that I will never love another."

Now he was shocked. His green eyes widened. "Too late?"

"Yes… too late." Avalain turned away, aware that she had said too much. Desperate to change the topic, she said, "Do you wish to go inside? Gandalf may wish to know more about Frodo's and Sam's visit…"

Unconsciously, he nodded. "Yes, that will be fine. But I think we should use the side doors…"

"Agreed," sighed Avalain in relief.

The two of them walked around the side of the building and took a side door inside the tower. As they silently proceeded down the halls, they heard a voice murmuring to himself, "What were you thinking, Peregrin Took? What service can a hobbit offer to such a great lord of Men?"

As Faramir and Avalain neared, said the Man, "It was well done."

Pippin looked up and leapt off the bench he had been sitting on. Avalain saw the hobbit was wearing a suit of mail with the emblem of the White Tree upon it. She smiled at the sight as Faramir said, "A generous deed should not be checked with cold council. You are to join the tower guard." His voice was tinged with impressment.

The hobbit heard this and smiled. "I didn't think they would find any livery that would fit me."

Faramir smiled slightly, his eyes filled with recollection. "It once belonged to a young boy of the court—a very foolish one. Who wasted many hours slaying dragons instead of attending to his studies."

"This was yours?" questioned Pippin with wonderment.

Faramir's smile grew. "Yes, this was mine. My father had it made for me."

Pippin stood up a little more out of pride. "Well, I'm taller than you were, then. Although, I'm not likely to grow anymore. Except sideways."

This caused for laughter on Avalain's and Faramir's part. Pippin looked rather pleased with himself—then said Faramir, "It never fitted me either. Boromir was always the soldier. They were so alike, he and my father. Proud. Stubborn, even. But strong."

Avalain could not help but notice that his voice was wistful. She knew that he was still thinking of the conversation he'd just had with his father.

Pippin opened his mouth to say something, but Avalain could not stop herself. "It matters not. What matters is who you are; a kind, strong Man who is both wise and worthy of becoming the Steward of Gondor one day, if things do not turn out the way everything should. And you should not take into account anything your father has to say about it."

Faramir looked at her in surprise. Avalain, knowing that she spoke out of place, gazed stonily at the ground. Her face turned pink, but she did not care. Hopefully he would take it out of anger.

Pippin nodded in Avalain's direction. "She's right. Besides, I think you have strength of a different kind. And one day, your father will see it."

The Man looked surprised at what the two of them had to say. The smile gradually returned to his face. He nodded in Pippin's direction and, though Avalain did not see it, said with a glance to her, "Thank you."

The hobbit nodded and sat back upon the bench. He glanced warily at Avalain, who was still flushed and staring at the ground. At this point, something clicked inside the hobbit's head—he understood what she felt. But he said nothing.

Avalain, meanwhile, believed to have embarrassed herself. She was certain that Faramir knew of her love for him, and it was not her place to speak of something before him. She would have done better to say nothing at all, she thought—longing to be rid of the situation, said she curtly, "Excuse me…"

She launched down the hallway and did not pay attention to Faramir, who called her name as a question, as if he was wondering whether she was all right.

Once she was gone, Faramir and Pippin exchanged looks. The hobbit glanced at the Man. "I'll bring her back. Give me a moment."

Faramir nodded confusedly, watching as Pippin followed her down the hall.

"Avalain! Open the door!"

Avalain was back in her room. She had locked the door behind her, still heavily self-conscious with the way she had blurted out her thoughts. She wished to spend a few minutes alone so that she would be actually able to _**face **_Faramir again before long—"_**AVALAIN!**_ Open the damn door!"

This last exclamation surprised Avalain so much she moved forward to unbolt said door. It was still with a look of surprise that she looked down at Pippin as he glowered up at her, still wearing the livery that was once Faramir's.

With a look of exasperation, huffed Pippin, "About time!" He sauntered in and sat on her bed, leaving Avalain to close the door and bolt it back shut.

"What are you doing?" asked Pippin. "Hiding in your room like this?"

The Elvish girl had never heard such a tone in the hobbit's voice before. It was almost prospective. "I'm remaining here for a short amount of time. Is that such a crime?"

"Seeing as you've just been reunited with the one you love after believing he was dead, yes!" retorted the halfling.

Avalain was mortified. Her hands flew up to her face. "Oh… Oh, _**no!**_" cried she, tears threatening to spike her eyes. "Oh, I knew it, I knew it, I was much too obvious… it was not my place to say things like that… it is not my place to speak my mind first—what will he think of me _**now?!**_"

Pippin sighed and moved off her bed. "Just sit down, Avalain," he sighed. From the look of horror on her face, he was able to see firsthand how much she did indeed love him.

After she sat down, he continued. "Avalain, the only reason I was able to tell is because I have known you for so long. We have spent months on end traveling together, getting captured together, and now traveling to this White City. I know what you do whenever you are upset, or whenever you are angry, or whenever you are glad. And because of that, I was able to distinguish how you feel. But shutting yourself in your room is not going to convey to him what I was able to discern just from looking at your face."

Avalain watched him carefully throughout all of this. "But Pippin," whispered she, "He cannot know. Not now. He already has enough on his mind what with the war, and his father… I cannot add love he does not wish for onto his shoulders."

"That's where you're wrong!" cried Pippin, wagging a finger her direction. "It might not appear like it to you, but I believe you are _**exactly **_what he is looking for with all this mayhem. Someone who will be steady—will you not be constantly there for him?"

"Of course I will!" exclaimed Avalain, lightly offended.

"Good!" replied the hobbit pompously, crossing his arms. "Then you have nothing to worry about."

She sighed again. "How am I to know that I am the steadfast person he wishes to have by his side, Pippin? I cannot see through people's faces like you can…"

Pippin smiled at last before murmuring, "You have to trust yourself. And me, of course. And what I believe is that he truly does wish for you. But the only way _**he'll **_know is through you insinuating that you _**will **_be honest and constant. Otherwise nothing'll ever get done." He finished this with a matter-of-fact voice.

Avalain stopped to process all this. Slowly, she asked, "Where is he now?"

"Where we were before, wondering why on earth you rushed out on us," muttered Pippin, grinning yet rolling his eyes all the same. After he spoke, however, he giggled. "I can't believe I'm counselling _**you **_on this stuff. Aren't ladies supposed to be the romantic ones?"

Now she laughed. "I'm not at all like the normal ladies, Pippin. You out of all people should know."

He nodded. "You're more of a warrior than a princess, I believe."

"I'll take that as a compliment," grinned Avalain. Though she knew her face was still pink, she decided that if she didn't return to the hallway now, then she probably would not ever. "Besides," remembered she aloud, "in fifteen minutes is when you're knighted, isn't it?"

Pippin looked distantly surprised. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, I have that."

She was the one to giggle now. "What do you believe you'll be doing as a guard of the citadel?"

"I have no idea!" replied he cheerfully.

The two conversed as such for the two minutes it took to return to the hallway—as they drew nearer, Avalain felt herself becoming nervous as she always was whenever within ten square feet of Faramir. She saw him sitting on the bench, smiling as he waited for them to arrive.

Once they did indeed arrive, Faramir whispered something to Pippin that Avalain could not hear—she tried to ignore the fact that the hobbit was looking mightily pleased with himself.

"Are you all right, Avalain?" asked Faramir quietly.

Slowly, she nodded. "I'm sorry. I only… meant to help."

He looked incredulous. "But you _**did **_help."

Pippin watched the exchange and, restraining a complacent chortle, said a bit too loudly and purposefully, "Well! I think I'm going to spend these last minutes getting ready…" He marched off down the hallway.

Avalain watched him go, screaming internally, _Peregrin Took don't you dare leave me alone with Faramir it'll be a disaster, come back here!_

Her mind screamed such things, and how she was able to keep her face calm she was not sure. But once he was gone, she laughed uneasily and said, "Are you going to his knighting?"

"Of course," replied Faramir. "You are as well, aren't you?"

She nodded. "Yes. I know that this is something he is proud of—therefore, I shall be there for him."

He smiled. "You care for the hobbits very much, don't you?"

Now she grinned and responded, "I do indeed. They have not officially been told, but I'm adopting them as either little brothers or sons by the time this is all over."

Hearing this, Faramir laughed. Knowing that Pippin's ceremony might start early, he gently took Avalain's hand and said, "We should probably follow him. It would be a pity if my father were to begin before the designated time. It wouldn't be the first occasion. I was almost late to my _**own **_knighting."

Avalain laughed and allowed herself to be guided off to the foyer. Though she was to face the Lord Denethor again, at least she would have Faramir and Pippin by her side.

They arrived just in time to witness the presentation. Pippin was brought forth to kneel in front of the Lord Denethor, who luckily seemed to be purposefully ignoring both Avalain and Faramir. His eyes remained on the hobbit as said Pippin, "Here do I swear fealty and service to Gondor, in peace or war, in living or dying… for… from this hour henceforth, until my lord release me, or death take me."

The Lord Denethor looked down at Pippin and seemed to smile. The smile may have been a little cold, but at least he was trying. Avalain, who was standing to Faramir's left, could not help but notice that Pippin seemed nervous as he spoke and as he listened to Denethor.

Said the Steward, "And I shall not forget it, nor fail to reward that which is given. Fealty with love. Valor with honor. Disloyalty with vengeance."

Denethor was certainly looking at Faramir now—then his gaze transferred to her. Avalain put everything into her iron-wall constitution to not look at either Faramir or relinquish her glare for the Steward of Gondor.

For a moment, all was silent as Denethor ambled around the throne room… He faced Faramir again. "I do not think we should so lightly abandon the outer defenses—defenses that your brother long held intact."

Faramir's expression grew a little hurt—Avalain noted this and felt his hurt as well… He responded with, "What would you have me do?"

"I would not yield the River of Pelennor unfought. Osgiliath must be retaken," spat Denethor in return.

"My Lord, Osgiliath is overrun," insisted Faramir.

The Steward looked to Avalain next. "You have the White Wizard and the Elvish Princess on your side. Perhaps their strength alone will be enough to retake the city, much less the reinforcements you will supply them with. And of course, you would be leading them."

Faramir started at the mention of Avalain and Gandalf. "There are more than six-thousand Orcs encamped in that city. Avalain and Mithrandir cannot take them on their own!"

Avalain looked toward Faramir, hearing the tone of voice he had taken. It sounded almost as if he was afraid, or worried… Her eyes found his face, but they darted back to the Steward of Gondor when he said, "Would the Elvish Princess and Mithrandir be willing to _**volunteer **_for this job?"

Avalain frowned. She knew what the Steward was attempting to do—get her to volunteer for retaking Osgiliath or force herself to look like a coward. Replied she icily, "I am willing to do whatever it takes to keep the darkness at bay, so long as it is within my power. The question is if reclaiming Osgiliath is within my power."

"You destroyed three of the Nazgûl and their steeds earlier this very afternoon," was her answer. "I do believe you retain the power."

Seeing where the debate was leading, Avalain held up her hairpin, her bloodstained wrist, and her necklace. "Do you see these gems? Inside them prior to this afternoon was energy. I used all of it to destroy those Ringwraiths… As you can see by the cuts on my wrist, my bracelet that contained years of energy has been shattered. Its bits and pieces are sprawled all across the Field of Pelennor—all I have left of it is _**this **_pendant." Here, Avalain held up the blue-green glass diamond that she kept in her pocket. "My energy is all but depleted."

"You still have the necklace and the hairpin," remarked Denethor.

"Their energy dwindles. Do you see a bright light glowing from them?"

There was, of course, no light emitting from either jewel. Denethor snarled and turned away from the princess. "We shall question your power later."

He returned to Faramir. "And as for you… Would you be willing to ride out to meet Osgiliath?"

"My Lord," repeated Faramir, "Osgiliath is entirely overrun."

"Much must be risked in war, something others would do well to learn," responded he, giving his son and Avalain an ugly look. "Is there a Captain here who still has the courage to do his lord's will?"

Faramir heard the tone of his father's voice and took a step backward. He was careful to remain passive as he said, "You wish now that our places had been exchanged. That I had died, and Boromir had lived."

Avalain dropped all resolution she had to not look at him. She turned to him, her eyes wide. To make matters worse, the Steward cruelly nodded. "Yes, I wish that."

Avalain gasped and threw her hands up to her mouth. Tears of rage and horror threatened to well in her eyes upon seeing the look on Faramir's face—then, said the Captain of Gondor, "Since you were robbed of Boromir, I will do what I can in his stead. If I should return, think better of me, Father."

Avalain restrained a sob, but still it came out as a choke. Faramir heard it and merely glanced her way before he continued to walk out of the foyer.

"That will depend on the manner of your return," replied Denethor.

Both Pippin and Avalain looked horrified by what they had just witnessed. Avalain, distraught, cleared her throat and gazed at the Steward with hate. "My Lord Denethor, should this mission be law and should Faramir accept my aid, I will go with him to Osgiliath."

The Steward of Gondor smiled thinly. "Do what you can, Princess of Rivendell. Your might and energy may yet do us good. Do what you can, and perhaps you will be thought better of as well."

"I do not care what you think of me," spat Avalain, her eyes flashing. "I care what you think of your son, and especially how your words have affected him. You have no heart, Steward. You are nothing more than a snake."

With that, she whirled around and ran out of the room, carefully lifting her skirts so that she might run after Faramir to find him. She knew she must, she had to say something, anything—

But he had disappeared, and Avalain knew not where he went. Despairing, she wondered how she would've been able to help him anyway…


	19. Chapter 19

That night, Avalain was standing at the balcony from her room. She was using her Elvish vision to look across the streets for any sign of Faramir… The early spring wind brushed her hair. Avalain closed her eyes. She had looked three times within the city and searched the castle at least twice. But Faramir was nowhere to be found—Avalain kneeled and put her head down.

For a number of minutes, she remained this way, thinking. How would she have been able to cheer him up anyway? As if she alone could bring him to lighter thoughts—she was just his friend, and the Steward was his father. Though she had aided Faramir before, she alone was no match for the cruelty of the Steward…

"Avalain."

Avalain immediately darted up, knowing it was Faramir.

Sighing in relief, she stepped hastily back into the room. "Thank goodness, Faramir, I'd no idea where you went—I tried to look for you."

"I know," replied he, smiling a little. "Forgive me for not responding."

She clasped her hands together behind her back. "It's all right, it's a lot to take in. But surely the Steward will call off the attack."

"No, Avalain. I am still riding to Osgiliath."

"_**What?**_" gasped Avalain, hugging her arms. She'd just been reunited with him today, and now he was to ride off to death… "But you cannot go! Faramir, it is a suicide mission, there is no outlook of victory, you know this!"

"Nonetheless, Avalain, I am going," was her somber response. "It is my father's will."

Avalain stared into his eyes. They were sad, yes, but still hopeful. "Then I'm coming with you," she retorted.

Faramir shook his head. "No, Avalain. I will not allow you to come."

She took a step back. "What? I may yet have enough energy to—"

"Do you remember three and a half years ago, the battlefield on the Fields of Pelennor? When you first used wizard's magic, it almost killed you. There are countless more Orcs you will be fighting this time with less energy. If you attempt to perform that spell again, it _**will **_kill you. And I will not let that happen, I will not let harm befall you while I have any say in it, and I do have a say. You are not coming."

Avalain walked back to the balcony and stared reproachfully at the few dots of light she could see beyond the impending Shadow of Mordor. "And what if I ride with you anyway? You cannot restrain me."

Faramir sighed and followed her out to the balcony. "Avalain, I have already pleaded to Gandalf to detain you should you attempt to ride with me. He has agreed, for both our sakes. But I did not come here to argue with you."

"Then why are you here?" asked Avalain quietly, a hand to her forehead.

"I am here to say goodbye," said he, "and to say a few things before I leave tomorrow."

Avalain cried out in terror. "_**Tomorrow?!**_"

"Yes, tomorrow," said Faramir calmly. "But please let me speak to you, Avalain. There are things I should tell you, before it is too late. You need to know—you deserve to.

"Four years ago, when I woke up in Rivendell, I was certain I had died, for an angel watched over me. But there was something wrong with the angel… she was sad and pale, and her eyes were filled with an unspoken pain. I knew there had to be something I could do; I tried to make her laugh. It worked. I heard her laugh and instantly knew I would need to listen to it every day. Her laugh, a melody of silver bells, has stayed with me ever since.

"She came to Gondor with me and my brother to visit her long lost friend. Throughout those two months, her laugh was constant, carefree, everlasting. It wasn't until she left that I finally realized how much she remained with me. Soon after, I discovered that defending my country was no longer my greatest wish; hearing the angel's laughter was. I knew I had to see her again.

"But it was impossible. She seemed a million miles away—far off in a distant land, so far away it seemed like a thousand universes were between us. But I knew, even at the distance, that she was safe… but then I heard of her star entering Transformation and the possibility of her death. Without a second thought, I rode those million miles, and her face, her smile, was on the surface of my mind the entire journey. The possibility that I may never hear her silver laugh again consumed me entirely…

"When it was clear she was healthy and alive, however, a weight I did not remember was there was lifted. I could breathe again, the angel was alive after so much of my and others' worrying, she was resurrected. I wished to stay with her forever, but I could not. Before long, I had to return home to face more warfare. With battles growing fiercer, I never expected to see her again. I figured my death would arrive quickly, and I accepted that… so long as the angel would live happily.

"Two and a half years passed. She was on my mind every single day. It was she that inspired me to fight and survive, for her. But every night I would say goodbye and fall asleep to the sound of her laughter, her laughter of silver bells.

"More months passed, and everything was the same. I'd just been informed of two halflings being captured—two hobbits that suddenly summoned the angel to return. I could not believe it, even as she spoke to me, that her presence was real. She informed me that she could not stay for long; I decided to give her as much joy as I could bring her… But being reunited with her—how could I survive without her now?

"When it came time for her departure, I vowed to myself that when she disappeared, I would force her out of my mind.

"That was when the blade was driven through her heart.

"I couldn't help but scream. The look of surprise on her face as the sword pierced her body was something I'll never forget. The same goes for my grief once she disappeared—I'd never known such agony as I did then. The angel whom I'd wished only happiness and safety for—dead. Dead, gone, where I could not follow.

"Ten days later, she flew through the air in front of my very eyes. She obliterated servants of the Shadow with a heavenly light. She glowed as a star would had one descended to the earth… seeing her brought an icy dagger through my side. Her beauty was the same, her laugh exactly as I remembered it. The grief of her death hit me full in the heart, the mind, and the soul. She would never return, would never return to me.

"But she wasn't dead.

"She was alive. And when I saw her, a wave of disbelief washed over me. I had _**seen **_her die, and yet there she was, standing in front of me.

"Finally, I allowed myself to believe that maybe—just maybe—she might love me someday. Seeing the worry and relief on _**her **_face sparked that belief, that hope. After all, we were both alive… though times were dark, it could be possible.

"Then I was ordered to retake Osgiliath. The mission seems impossible, and I realize the probability of my death is full. And now, as I stand here speaking to that angel, I know that the life I might have spent with her was a dream, and always had been—but a dream that I wished to share with her nonetheless.

"So before I go tomorrow, Avalain… just know. Please remember me every now and then, and please go find your happiness. I just needed to tell you, to be certain you knew. I love you, Avalain. Thank you for bringing me joy; I hope I have done the same for you after these four years."

Faramir kissed her forehead then and, seeing the look of shock on Avalain's face, smiled lightly before turning.

Avalain, her head swimming with his words, her ears ringing with disbelief and happiness and pain, could barely speak or move. She knew now, she knew, that he was in love with her, just as she was in love with him—and now he had to know as well.

Just as Faramir reached the door, Avalain bounded forward and grabbed his arm. "Wait," gasped she, gazing at him. "Please… there are things I must tell you as well…"

Avalain's heart was beating so loudly she was certain he heard it. But for once, she did not let that bother her. Though her hand was trembling, she paid it no mind. She discovered, at that moment, that she'd be longing to tell him this ever since she found out herself that she was in love with him.

"Four years ago, I never dreamed that when two Men rode up to my city, they would change my life forever. Though one of them was injured, I felt compelled to return him to health, for I had lost a friend in battle and was determined to at least save this Man, since I could not do the same for my friend.

"When he awoke, and I saw his eyes for the first time, I noted their color… Green, like the leaves of the trees I planted in the garden; a light green that I would remember for years. I wished to help him rest and recover… I felt a strange protectiveness for this Man, this Man whom I had never met.

"And then he made me laugh. He brought me out of thirty years of sadness and despair with only a few words… Over the next days, he continued to make me laugh. Together, we trained in the garden… He soon became a most wonderful friend.

"He and his brother then took me to the White City to meet the friend whom I thought had perished. Once we were reunited, I thought my happiness could never end. The soldier, one of my dearest friends, was beside me, constantly making me smile. And he was beside me two months later when my other dearest friends nearly stuck the other with knives. I was terrified—the thought of losing any of them to death! But the soldier supporting me understood, and he comforted me and brought me joy.

"Eleven months later, when I awoke from a Transformation, he was there, guarding me from harm. But much too soon he was forced to return, and once he was gone, I felt a strange emptiness without him around.

"Years passed. During a quest, two of my dear hobbits summoned me to a cave in which Ithilien rangers took residence. And I saw him again—the soldier whom I'd so longed to see throughout the past two years. It was only when I saw him that the entirety of how much I'd missed his company hit me… Seeing him again was a relief such as I had never known.

"It was during a walk with the soldier in the woods of Ithilien when I first discovered my love for him. It was only when he insisted I rest to recover my strength, and the kind smile upon his face when he said this, that I first truly interpreted the signs. The next morning, I could barely trudge up the courage to embrace him goodbye, so great was my nervousness. I was so sure he could hear every thump of my heart…

"When he thought I had perished, I tried to contact him. But to no avail…

"A week later, I was shown a letter that spoke of how Gondor's Captains had all perished. I was overcome with despair—I wept bitterly to think that he had gone… The pain in my heart was greater than any pain brought by a wound to the flesh, or a slap to the face. And there would be no remedy…

"Later that night, when one of the other hobbits looked into a palantír, I grabbed it from him to relieve him of Sauron's torture. But the Dark Lord saw into my mind and read my fears, and he showed me the death of my soldier…

"I had never been so furious, so distraught, in all my life. I hated the Dark Lord and vowed to see him dead… I was hoping that when the White Wizard decided to ride to the White City, he might allow me to remain in Osgiliath so that I might help the Men before perishing myself. Then, I would at last be able to follow the soldier into the land of silver glass.

"But then I saw he was alive, as he was riding back to the White City from Osgiliath. As I was overcome with sorrow three nights before, that afternoon I was overcome with joy to see him returned, returned to me…

"And now, so soon after seeing him again, after perhaps daring to hope that he might fall in love with me someday, he has been sentenced to reclaim Osgiliath, a mission that both the soldier and I know is impossible… My hope, ten minutes ago, was that the soldier would at least allow me to accompany him to death, so that we might at least travel there together. But he wishes for me to survive, to be happy and find love again.

"I tell you now, Faramir… You are the only person left whom I truly love. If you perish and I live, you will be condemning me to an empty, everlasting life. I would rather spend these next twelve hours with you and ride then to death than be left behind to face an eternity alone.

"And now you know that I love you as well. I have for a while, and have been deeply afraid to show it. But please don't let this be goodbye. I could not bear it."

Avalain looked into Faramir's eyes, wondering how he would take her words. He took hers how she had taken his. He looked shocked, unable to move…

At last, he swallowed and asked, "You love me?" Almost as if he didn't believe her.

She laughed quietly. "Yes, Faramir, I do. Who else would my soldier be?"

He slowly shook his head. A smile came upon his face. "I would never have dared to hope… That after all this time…"

Avalain placed a hand on his face and smiled hesitantly. "Just as I have been afraid to tell you… but now there is no hope…"

"I wish there was hope," murmured he in reply. He looked into her eyes before kissing her brow and adding, "Avalain, do I wish there was hope. Know that were anything different, I would run anywhere with you to make you happy. I would give you everything you asked for and treat you like the queen of heaven itself. But it is too late for running, and we are both needed here."

Avalain nodded. "We both still have purpose here… there may yet be more we can do to free this land from darkness. And that is why I ask you again, Faramir, please do not try to save me. The battle shall be here before long, and there is nothing you can do to stop that."

"If only there was a miracle waiting at Osgiliath," sighed Faramir, but Avalain knew that it was a hopeless thought.

She smiled grimly. "No, Faramir, we both know there's not. If we cannot run, let us at least face the battle together. Please…"

"Avalain," replied he, "you have eternity to live as an Elven princess. I am a Mortal, bound to die one day or another; most likely it shall be tomorrow. I cannot let you give up the years of your life for me—when I told you I loved you, I did not think you loved me in return. But now that I know you do, let me tell you that I can give you _**nothing **_except sorrow and death. I will die, and I will not let you follow me into that void when there is still something left for you here to bring you joy."

"Don't say that," gasped Avalain sharply, lurching away from him. "Don't tell me that."

"Why not?" persisted Faramir. "It is truth. Your people are leaving this land… if I could, I would send you on a ship to Valinor, where you would live safely with your kin. But as I cannot do that, I can at least give you a chance at life, at happiness in the future. You deserve better than what I can give you, which is next to nothing. I have less than twelve hours here with you before I leave, and I will _**not **_allow you to accompany me to death."

Avalain closed her eyes, trying to restrain more tears. But they escaped anyway, to her anger. Tears, now, it was always tears. Always they moved down her cheeks in rage or sorrow or joy. "Faramir, I do not know what I would do without you. You are the last person here whom I truly love… if I lose you…"

"You will find others of your kind who will deserve your love," answered he. "They will bring you happiness for all the years of your life, and knowing that is enough for me."

"No," said Avalain, shaking her head. "No, Faramir. How I felt when I thought Legolas had died was nothing compared to how I felt when I believed _**you **_to be dead. I was all but an empty shell in those three days alone… if I had to spend the rest of eternity in that state, I would sooner allow death take me. All I want," added Avalain quickly, seeing him open his mouth again, "is to spend these last few hours with you, and go wherever you go from now on. I wish to be by your side, and nowhere else, for as long as we have left together."

At this point, Faramir turned away from her. "Avalain, I cannot take your life away from you when you might live to see the world rid of Shadow! I'm not worth your death. All I want for you is happiness in lighter times. I would rather die and you live to find love and have a family in a thousand years, than allow you to condemn yourself to death for me! I can give you nothing, and I'm asking you to find someone else who _**can **_give you something."

Avalain whirled him around to face her again. "Do you not see?! I would _**not **_be able to love another through my broken heart! I cannot hear these words again, not again, not from you, whom I love more deeply than the Man who first spoke them to me! Your words do not bring me comfort, they only break my heart, Faramir—I__would rather die with you than live ten-thousand years alone!"

Unable to restrain them, she burst into tears.

For a moment, the only sound was Avalain's cries. And then, said Faramir, "Another Man said this to you?"

"Your _**brother!**_ Do you not remember my telling you?"

"Boromir?" asked Faramir, stepping backward.

"Yes, yes! He asked me to find love again, and I have,__I _**have,**_ and now here you are, saying the same thing! It broke my heart before, and it breaks my heart now! I may have survived this once, but there will be no comfort for me a second time—all I need to be happy is you! These twelve hours would bring me bliss where the next ten-thousand years will bring me none!" Avalain paused to collect herself. She breathed deeply and continued; "You wish to bring me happiness, but I will have none without you—I love you, and you are all that is left for me here."

Avalain's tears stopped flowing, but she felt empty. She watched Faramir's face as he gazed at her, torn between wishing for her happiness and allowing her to accompany him.

At long last, he took Avalain's arm and sat her down on her bed. He placed his hand against her face and murmured, "I do not know what to do. I am torn between your life and your happiness."

"Do not mistake the promise of life for happiness," said Avalain. "Who says death cannot bring joy?"

Faramir sighed and closed his eyes. He sat down next to her and shook his head. "I feel it is unfair, bringing you with me. You have done nothing to deserve what little I can give you—you should have gotten so much more…"

"If I am with you, you will have given me a lifetime's worth of joy," whispered she. "That is all I need; the promise of these last few hours. It is all I want, and I would rather face a thousand Orcs with you by my side than a thousand suitors when you are nothing more than a memory."

He laughed roughly. "You're that against it?"

"I am, and I shall forever be."

"You are very persistent."

"I do not believe I am asking for much, if I may say so myself. And because of that, I will do whatever I can to get it. I'm afraid you shall have to put up with my pigheadedness for another couple hours."

He laughed a little. "You are not pigheaded. Only out of options… aren't we all," he sighed as an afterthought.

Avalain was about to respond, but then Faramir looked at her and smiled. "Well, if we are going to Osgiliath tomorrow morning—"

"We?" repeated Avalain hopefully.

"Then I might as well have the courage to do this at least once."  
>With his hand on her face, he leaned in and kissed her. Avalain jolted with surprise before allowing herself to relax. She raised her arms and placed them around his neck, drawing him close to her. She could think of nothing except how very happy she was in that moment, knowing that he loved her, feeling his lips upon her own, feeling his hand caressing the side of her face. She moved slightly to face him, and before long, they were pressed up against one another—<p>

For a few minutes they remained together, drawing whatever joy and comfort they could from the other's presence. After a while, Faramir placed his forehead against hers and gently brushed his hand against her cheek. "I still have trouble believing an Elven princess as lovely as you can love a Mortal like me."

"I have always loved you," murmured she. "Since the moment I met you, I knew you would change my life. Your strength, your kindness, your courage, was what brought me to love you even more than I originally had. Were you able to see inside my mind, you would realize it was not hard to love you."

He kissed her cheek before pulling her against him. For another moment they stayed in this embrace… But at last, Avalain murmured, "You should sleep—we both should. We will need our rest for tomorrow…"

"Yes, we will," murmured Faramir into her hair. "I'll leave you to get your rest."

Avalain, feeling his arms moving away from her, said quickly, "Will you stay?"

Faramir looked confused. "What?"

"Will you stay?" she repeated, vowing not to flush. "If this is the last night we will live on Middle-Earth, I would at least like to spend as much of it as I can with you."

There was a silence, and then, "Of course I'll stay."

Avalain smiled again and closed her eyes as Faramir lay beside her. She placed her head on his shoulder and felt his arm around her back. Knowing that he would be there until it was time to leave in the morning, Avalain allowed herself to relax—she felt him kiss her forehead and heard him murmur, "I do love you, Avalain. Please know that," before she fell asleep.

The following morning, Avalain awoke to dark skies.

At first, she could hardly believe it. She was certain it was no longer night—she realized that the darkness was caused by the Shadow of Mordor. It was so close now that it blocked the sun in the east… It had moved faster than she thought.

By afternoon, the Shadow would hit, and Gondor would be sieged.

Avalain sighed sadly and rose to hear, "Good morning." She turned and smiled to see Faramir leaning against the wall. He gestured to the side table where an apple, a loaf of bread, and a cup of water sat. "You better eat," he said, walking over to her and kissing her forehead. "You will need all your strength for today."

"So long as you are beside me, I will be stronger than I ever have been," replied Avalain, though she picked up the glass of water and drank, knowing that he would insist she eat should she do otherwise.

Afterwards, she tore off a piece of bread and chewed it slowly; the Shadow of Mordor had captured her attention. She sighed again and asked, "Not long now, is it?"

Faramir placed a hand on her shoulder. "No… not long at all," he answered somberly. "I suspect that before the afternoon ends, the tip of the Shadow's fingers shall touch this city."

"We will leave beforehand, will we not? It cannot be the afternoon hours yet."

He shook his head. "It is still early morning. Not an hour ago, dawn was supposed to rise. In another hour, all preparations shall be finalized, and we shall be ready to ride for Osgiliath."

Avalain nodded at his response, but there was something in his voice that caused her to look at him. His tone had become more than somber… almost guilty, as if everything were his fault. There were lines upon his face like he had aged twenty years in but a second; knowing what he was thinking, Avalain stood. "You cannot blame yourself for what happened at Osgiliath," she murmured softly. "It was a noble act, to save the men in your company. There was nothing else you could do."  
>"There must've been something," he sighed. "Because I retreated, there is now no way we can retake the city…" His voice, however, was still tinged with guilt and hopelessness.<p>

Hearing this, Avalain placed a hand on his face and turned him to look at her. "Listen to me," she whispered. "Of course there is a way to retake this city! The Men are skilled. You are a true leader. Perhaps closer to the end of the battle, Gandalf shall come to our aid. We do not _**know **_what will happen… Our fate is not already written. Do not speak as if our doom is inevitable when I still hold hope in my heart, as you should hold it in yours."

There was a silence after she finished speaking—knowing that nothing else she could say would change his mind, Avalain dejectedly gazed at the dark cloud. But then, so quietly she could almost not hear it, he murmured, "Perhaps… There is at least a little hope."

And yet, his voice was still odd. Wistful, almost, as opposed to hopeful.

Finally, he smiled, albeit it was strained. "You should finish eating, Avalain," he said, her name a whisper. She could not help but smile… despite what they would face later that very day, his first concern was still for her to gain strength. "You will need it."

To provide him peace of mind, Avalain waved the apple in her hand before biting into it. As soon as she did, something changed in his face. It morphed from guilt and hopelessness into sadness and relief, though she could not fathom why.

"What is the matter?" asked she, slipping her fingers through his. "You are acting strange this morning."

But her response was silence. He said nothing—he only gazed into her eyes. The green that Avalain so often saw in her dreams bored into her, giving her a warm feeling that spread throughout her body.

"I only want to picture you like this," said he at last. "With love in your eyes."

Now Avalain was confused. "Why would I ever look at you differently?"

He glanced at the apple.

For the first time, the Elvish girl saw that its insides were tinted red, and no natural color of red. It was the color of a dark cherry, certainly no color that would normally be found in an apple. That was when Avalain realized the warm feeling throughout her body was not from the gaze Faramir gave her.

It was from whatever he'd injected into the apple.

"Faramir—" she gasped, but already she felt its effects. Her legs started to shake, her knees threatened her collapse… Faramir caught her and laid her on the bed. Avalain did not understand. "What is happening? I do not—Faramir!"

She coughed and saw red tainting her vision, the same color red as was in the apple. From somewhere far away, she somehow managed to see his face… She could see the anguish and the guilt in it, and suddenly everything was explained.

He'd been meaning to do it the entire time. He'd planned to keep her in Gondor so she would not ride out with him.

The first tear escaped her eye. "Faramir," she cried. "Why?"

She was startled to see that he was close to crying as well. His voice was tight as he answered, "I would not have done this if I did not truly love you. I _**need **_to give you a chance; riding to Osgiliath with me will not give you that. There is hope for you still… I'm so sorry, Avalain. I love you—perhaps someday you will forgive me."

With that, he kissed her forehead, glanced at her one last time, and walked out of the room, leaving Avalain upon the bed as she slowly sank into unconsciousness.

When again Avalain awoke, the sky had grown even darker. Though it was clear it was not yet night, dusk would soon occur.

Remembering what had happened, the Elvish girl shot up out of her bed. Other than a buzzing in the back of her skull, she felt perfectly fine—she knew, with despair, that whatever poison Faramir had given her only rendered her unconscious long enough for him to lead the siege on Osgiliath and not give her time to join him later.

Daring to hope that there still might be time for her to ride out to Osgiliath, she sprinted down the hallways and ran down to the main level of the city and to the stables… Yet Gandalf was waiting for her there.

"I thought you would come here," said he tranquilly. He glanced upon her and her disheveled state and added, "I knew it was only a matter of time."

"You knew?" whispered Avalain, her voice filled with distress. "You knew Faramir's plan? To leave me here?"

Sadly, the wizard nodded. "He informed me of what he was to do at the spark of dawn this morning. I was given explicit instructions to _**not **_allow you to go to Osgiliath, and that I was allowed to stop you by whatever means necessary."

Avalain's eyes filled with tears. "Gandalf, my father, why will you not let me go? I cannot be ignorant to Faramir's fate like this…"

Gandalf sighed and replied gently, "If this is Faramir's final wish, Avalain, I am not going to disappoint him. He was very insistent upon believing that you shall have a chance for a better life… It was his firm belief, and I did not trounce it."

"But you admit you know he was wrong."

"I admit nothing of the sort," objected the wizard. "I only mean to say that I said nothing that would discourage him from doing what he did."

The Elvish princess fell to her knees. She clenched her fists and glared down upon the stable floor. She focused on one piece of hay and wished she could burn it with her very glare. "Everyone I love is betraying me," she growled.

"On the contrary, we are looking out for your best interest."

"My best interest lies with Faramir!" cried Avalain, her voice not only desperate but angry at this point. "Anyone who says otherwise is wrong! You are not me, Faramir is not me! You do not understand! Gandalf, _**let me to my horse.**_"

And yet, despite the fearsomeness Avalain put behind her tone, the wizard did not step aside. Instead, he raised his staff and said, "I will not."

Avalain growled and was almost ready to withdraw her energy from her necklace and her hairpin so that she might threaten Gandalf to move—even if it wouldn't have worked—but then a war horn sounded. Both the wizard and the Elf froze and gazed outside to the front gates… A Man from the watchtower shouted, "Open the gate!"

Because of the swarm of people that surrounded the gate, Avalain could not see who had arrived. She craned her neck to see if perhaps it was Faramir, or someone who might be able to help her, but the person was not visible. It was Gandalf who first spoke. "Avalain, return to the Citadel. I shall inform you of what has happened. By no means will I allow you anywhere close to that gate."

Knowing that should she disobey, the consequences could be severe, Avalain rose stiffly to return to the Tower of Ecthelion. Hopefully then she would be able to see over the Fields of Pelennor for any sign of Faramir, should he return.

Once Avalain perched herself at the edge of the top level of the city, she stared down at the entrance to the gate. But whatever commotion there had been was over now… It appeared he or she who had arrived had been taken into the city. At this point, however, Avalain did not care. She despondently searched the Fields, wondering about the glass shards of her bracelet, wondering about the fate of Faramir, wondering about Frodo and Sam… Wondering…

With a start, she realized that during her pensiveness, a mass of black specks swarmed Minas Tirith. With a gasp, Avalain realized that the Shadow of Mordor had reached the White City… Sauron was ready to wage his war.

And if Osgiliath had been where the beasts came from…

"No," whispered Avalain, sinking to her knees. "_**No…**_"

That was when footsteps of four people sounded through the air. Avalain could not bring herself to turn around. She could not even see clearly for sorrow… Her only comfort was that soon, the world would be ended, and soon, she would be reunited with her dear Faramir—if not in life, then maybe in death.

A cry sounded behind her. She recognized the voice as Denethor's; she did not care. It was his penance, for being so cruel to his son.

"Faramir! Say not that he has fallen…"

Avalain's eyes shot open. "_**What?**_" she gasped. She whirled around to see two men holding aloft a white cot, upon which Faramir lay.

For a moment, all was silent. She hardly noticed the wary and sad looks on Gandalf's and Pippin's faces as they watched her expression—it morphed from surprised to confused to angry to horrified to simply devastated.

Without another sound, she ran towards him as the two Men carefully placed Faramir upon the ground. He was pale and unmoving with a gash in his side much like the one he'd had the very first day she had met him and Boromir… Except this one was accompanied by a second very close to his heart. It was still bleeding, and a large bruise was beginning to show on his temple.

Avalain carefully placed a hand on his temple. "Faramir?" she whispered.

Of course, she received no response. Attempting to remain calm, Avalain grabbed his wrist and attempted to find a pulse. She found nothing—in her frantic state, she did not feel the slightest of beats from his veins.

"Faramir!" she cried, her throat constricting. Her voice shattered the hearts of the on looking Men… Gandalf closed his eyes, and Pippin knelt beside her to put a hand on her own.

"They were outnumbered," said one of the soldiers at last. "None survived…" Denethor stood and murmured, "My sons are spent… My line has ended!" He stumbled blankly around the white courtyard.

Avalain cared not about the old snake. She gently removed Pippin's hand from atop her own and rose gracefully to her feet. "He's dead," she said simply. Strangely, her voice was collected, which spooked the others. They were certain that soon, she would explode and release all her grief and anger… They did not follow her as she walked to the terrace of the top level.

For a minute, Avalain stood there. To try and keep herself calm, she withdrew all the energy within her necklace and hairpin and pulled it together into a ball. She passed it back and forth from one hand to another, but of course she could not concentrate on it for long. Her tears began to blind her—her rage welled up into her throat. As she stared, then glared, at the ball of energy in her hand, it sparked and shimmered restlessly. It began to change color, from white to red to blue to purple and finally, to black.

And black it remained. Her light energy became dark, and finally Avalain could keep it in no longer.

She summoned all her energy into herself and screamed. It was a sound of loss, rage, despondency. The cry was so loud Pippin threw his hands to his ears to block the sound. Avalain did not know it, but all in Gondor heard. Even the Orcs in Osgiliath looked up to the White City, wondering about what sort of creature could issue such a sound.

Once it was over, Avalain fell to her knees again. She felt a power rush and wished there was something nearby that she could kill.

Her wishes were answered. In the sky shrieked two Nazgûl heading for the White City.

Avalain leered; a terrifying, senseless leer, one that promised revenge. She paid no attention to Gandalf's command to return. Instead, she jumped off the edge of the terrace and used her dark energy to fly as she had just the previous day with the light energy of the same wizard.

With blinding speed, Avalain drew to the first of the two Nazgûl. It raised its sword challengingly, as if it did not believe she could best it. And yet, without a second thought, she whipped out her sword and beheaded its steed before doing the same to its rider.

Then, with another scream, she whirled around and sliced off the arms of the second Nazgûl. Then its legs. And finally, its head. And even as it fell, she shouted curses at it, caring not about what the others might hear or have to say about her language. She cared not. Death would soon be upon them all.

_So why wait, _thought she, _when it is useless now to live?_

This thought tore through Avalain's mind. She knew it was time.

She turned around to face those who had been watching from Minas Tirith's top level. Pippin and Gandalf stood by the terrace, each of them with wide eyes. "Avalain!" called the hobbit. "Come back! You have to—"

"Goodbye," she called, and she let her energy flee. She tumbled down to the ground, Pippin's screams echoing in her mind as the ground reached up to swallow her.


	20. Chapter 20

"Avalain, _**NO!**_" shrieked Pippin. But she was already falling toward the earth. The Elvish girl smiled grimly; at least she had killed two more Nazgûl before dying. She almost laughed aloud at how she regretted not being able to take Sauron himself with her—

There was a jerk, as if someone had grabbed her. Avalain gasped… Was that what death felt like after falling? But when she opened her eyes, she found that she was being lifted back to the terrace of Minas Tirith. It was easy to see, what with the white glow around her, that it was Gandalf who had used his magic to pluck her out of midair.

The Elvish girl sighed, yet made no move to resist. She knew that the wizard would only repeat the action should she try and jump again. And so she allowed herself to be limply raised to the terrace.

"Foolish girl!" exclaimed Gandalf, though in truth he looked more relieved than angry. "You should learn to listen before acting!"

"What is there to listen to?" questioned Avalain dully. "Except the cries of those who are about to die?"

Pippin threw his arms around her. "Avalain, you must listen!" he exclaimed, though his words were muffled since his face was buried in her hair. "I looked over Faramir. I saw something the rest of you did not—he's _**alive.**_"

"Oh, Pippin," sobbed Avalain. "I wish I could believe you."

"But he is!" insisted the hobbit. "Come, look!"

And with that, he seized her hand, pulled her to her feet, and jogged her back to Faramir's side. As they passed the Lord Denethor, Avalain heard him cry, "My line has ended!"

It took everything she had to not smack him across the face.

When they reached Faramir, Pippin launched down to the ground. "Look!"

He grabbed Faramir's hand and gave it to Avalain. With wide eyes, the hobbit said, "Feel for a pulse…"

"I already tried," whispered Avalain, but the hobbit wouldn't hear of it. He persisted that she try again.

It was with dread that the Elvish girl did as Pippin bade. She carefully put two fingers on the inside of Faramir's wrist, over his veins, for a pulse that she knew would not come.

Five seconds passed. Then ten. She found nothing. She shifted her fingers slightly, just in case.

And then she felt it.

Pippin was right.

Faramir was alive.

"Oh, stars," whispered Avalain, her own pulse racing. How could it be? These injuries were too grievous for life, how was it that he had survived? But no, there it was again—a steady beat, signaling the blood still flowing through his body.

Immediately, Avalain reached for her hairpin and her necklace. But there was nothing there. "No," she whimpered. In desperation, she withdrew all the energy she dared and gathered it together. Her heart fell… it was not enough.

"Avalain," said the White Wizard. The Elvish girl looked up to see a large ball of light energy in Gandalf's palm. Avalain swallowed, unable to do anything more than blink.

At last, however, she managed a feeble, "Thank you, Gandalf," before grabbing the energy with trembling hands. Carefully, she placed the ball of light over the cut in Faramir's side… With a quiet, shaking voice, she began chanting the Elvish healing spells that she had used to cure him the very first day she'd met him…

She smiled recalling what had spurred her to heal him the first time. She'd believed Legolas to be dead and thought, _If I could not save him, I can at least save this Man._

"Strange," she whispered to herself, "the way fate works…"

For what seemed like eternity, Avalain knelt, praying that Faramir would live. She had not gone through so much pain and loss during this journey only to lose the one she loved.

After another ten minutes, however, the princess was forced to recognize that she simply could not proceed. She was exhausted to the brink of unconsciousness… Even if Gandalf were to aid her again, this wound also needed medicine.

Pippin seemed to understand this. Seeing that Avalain was in no condition to rise and inform the others, he cried out to the Lord Denethor—who had been pacing the courtyard the last ten minutes shouting about how his line had ended—"He needs medicine, my Lord!"

Far from responding sensibly, screamed Denethor yet again, "My line has ended!" With this last cry, he gazed out over the terrace of Minas Tirith; he froze.

Tiredly did Avalain rise to see what had caused him to stop short. She inhaled sharply—in front of the White City were legions upon legions of Orcs and Men from the South.

Denethor's surprise turned to anger. "Rohan… has deserted us. Théoden's betrayed me…" He looked down to see all the Men of Gondor positioning themselves in battle stations to fight the oncoming montage of Mordor Orcs. "Abandon your posts!" screamed the Steward, causing the Elf and Wizard alike to gasp with outrage. "Flee, flee for your lives!"

Hearing this, Gandalf calmly walked up behind Denethor and whacked the insane Steward upon the head with his staff. Said Steward crumpled to the ground. As all the Men stared up at Gandalf, said the wizard, "Prepare for battle!"

Once he knew the Men were returning to their posts, Gandalf walked to Avalain. Sadly, he gazed upon her before placing a hand upon her shoulder. "He will be all right, Avalain. Do not worry…"

"You tell me not to, yet I shall anyway," sighed Avalain. She kissed Faramir's forehead and rose to face the wizard. "I shall join the front lines. I will help command them when you are elsewhere."

Now Gandalf smiled. "There's our warrior princess," he murmured. He withdrew a spare sword and gave it to her. "I will take charge of the front lines until I am needed elsewhere—then, command shall fall to you."

Avalain grinned, though it was grim. She glanced back at Faramir and sighed, "I shall return, Faramir. It is now _**my **_turn to battle…"

"Stay here, Peregrin Took," said Gandalf. The hobbit nodded and sat down beside Faramir, his expression one of immense apprehension.

Avalain and Gandalf proceeded to the stables, where they leapt upon Shadowfax and trotted down to the front line. They passed some Men who were frantically wondering who to obey; their questions were answered when shouted the Elf and wizard, "Return to your posts!"

The defenses of Gondor readied themselves again. "There may yet be hope," sighed Avalain, thinking wistfully of the conversation she and Faramir had shared.

"Indeed there may," responded Gandalf. With that, they were positioned close to the gate leading into Gondor… When Avalain saw just how tall and thick it was, she smiled and recalled how impenetrable the White City had been in past wars…

For a spare moment, all was silence. But then the horrible chants and roars of the Orcs could be heard from the Fields of Pelennor… Seeing the Men's apprehension, ordered Gandalf, "Send these foul creatures into the abyss!"

Large cracks of firing catapults sounded through the air. Avalain looked up to see rocks being tossed both into and out of the city. With Gandalf's help, she managed to freeze a number of the boulders falling towards the Men and send them flying back to their opponents.

But then other projectiles were shot out of the Orcs' catapults.

They were heads—severed heads of the Men who must've ridden with Faramir in their futile attempt to reclaim Osgiliath. Avalain swallowed back bile… were Faramir not the Captain of his company, his head would've been flying over the walls too…

Enraged, screamed Avalain, "Fire at will!" to those manning the catapults. At her cry, an avalanche of boulders flew towards the banes, crushing a great many of them. She then spoke to Gandalf; "You go instruct the archers—you are wiser with battle strategy than I. From below, I will repeat your commands."

Nodding at her, the wizard took off for the second level, shouting, "Stand to your posts! Fight!" as he went.

Left with only one commander, the Men paid rapt attention to Avalain as she ordered them to fire the catapults at the trolls and the wooden towers that drew steadily nearer. "Aim for the biggest targets!" she cried. When many of them were defeated, she called for any Men able to wield a bow to join the ranks of archers that were under Gandalf's control. Seeing as the Orcs were attempting to breach the wall with a piddly little log, she figured more archers to kill the Orcs from above instead of Men waiting for them to break in was a good trade-off.

Something was wrong, however. Although there were dozens and dozens of Orcs lying deceased outside the main gate of the city, Avalain still felt as if there was a giant threat. She gazed over the fields and discovered more trolls pushing more wooden contraptions towards the walls.

"Return to the catapults!" ordered Avalain. The Men hustled to obey; once they loaded the weapons, they fired boulder upon boulder into the wooden towers, as well as the banes pushing them.

But even so, they were drawing closer… Knowing that those wooden towers held some significance, even though the Men were knocking over some of the contraptions, she could not help but wonder…

"Wait," murmured Avalain to herself. She gazed at the wooden towers and gasped. "Gandalf!" she cried, realizing what they were for.

The wizard looked to where she pointed—his eyes widened. His gaze flew to the archers upon the second level; seeing that they were all shooting at the towers, screamed he, "Not the towers! Aim for the trolls! Kill the trolls! Bring them down!"

Although the Men killed a few trolls, the rest had finished their job. The wooden towers opened to spill Orcs atop the white gates. Now Orcs swarmed the city's top gates, forcing Men to withdraw their swords or shoot arrows into their foreheads, thus being distracted from more trolls pushing more towers…

Avalain wished she could help above, but her command was needed below. And so she remained, doing her best to strategize and lead while Gandalf's priority was to purge the city of what Orcs had arrived.

She swiftly glanced around—around her were approximately one hundred Men waiting for the main gate to be breached. Only twenty manned catapults, and fifty more were shooting arrows at Orcs and trolls above. She thought swiftly… if the Orcs had no better weapon than that pathetic log, it would be better if more Men went to the top gates to fend off the trolls.

"I need twenty Men to join Gandalf!" shouted Avalain. Immediately, twenty-some Men heeded her calls. They sprinted up the stairs that would lead them to the second level, withdrew their bows, and aimed for the trolls.

Two hours passed, and nothing happened. It appeared that the Men and the Orcs were at a standoff—the Orcs could not breach the city, and the Men could not repel the Orcs. Around the front gate lay no less than two hundred dead Orcs, but still they attempted to break through with the little log.

Meanwhile, the wooden towers and the trolls were proving to be much more problematic. As the troll's hides were tough, the arrows of the Men would not be embedded deeply within their skin. Often, the attacks would be like bee stings to the trolls as opposed to hindering wounds.

Suddenly, the sounds of hooves clopping on cobblestone entered Avalain's ears. She turned around to see Gandalf riding upon Shadowfax, his face ashen.

"Where am I needed?" asked she immediately.

"Above," answered he. "The Orcs are becoming bolder."

She nodded and seated herself upon Shadowfax's back, screaming to the Men to remain strong before disappearing. When at last she and Gandalf reached the second level, she found that the entire place was sieged with monsters. Many of the buildings were on fire, and screams of women and children as they hastened to flee to higher levels sounded in her ears.

Avalain quickly grabbed two Men and said, "Guide any women and children you see up to the fifth level, and barricade the main entrance! But do not begin that last until they have all been evacuated up to that fifth level, do you hear me?"

They nodded feverishly, seeming quite glad to be leaving the battle. But Avalain did not pay that any mind since three Orcs had stolen her attention. One lunged toward her with a rusty scythe, but Avalain parried before embedding a dagger in its heart. The second tried to stab her in the back; the girl leapt to the side, whirled around, and beheaded it. The third turned to engage another Man instead, but she threw a spare dagger into the back of its skull.

Before long, more Orcs took their place…

An hour passed in which it was like the very sky was raining Orcs. The storm was endless; Gandalf and Avalain alike were struggling to give orders because they were so constantly engaged in battle. It was difficult enough to shout so all the Men could hear them, but over the sounds of clanging metal atop it?

It was well into the night when more Men finally were sent from the higher levels of Minas Tirith. Relieved, the Elvish princess looked over the weapons of the reinforcements—she was glad to see many had swords.

Then she froze.

Pippin was running alongside those reinforcements.

Taken by shock, Avalain froze and almost did not duck in time to avoid an arrow aimed for her head. Once she shot an arrow into the offender's skull, she opened her mouth to shout at him to flee—but Gandalf got to it first. "Peregrin Took!" shouted the wizard, his eyes narrowing in concern. "Go back to the Citadel!"

"They called us out to fight," contradicted the hobbit in a flat tone. His eyes widened as a particularly fierce Orc turned to face him, a manic glint in its glare.

Seeing the Orc, Gandalf lunged forward and beheaded the creature. "This is no place for a hobbit!" exclaimed he, swiftly killing another beast. Three more followed, and though Avalain wished to be able to run to defend the wizard, other Orcs blocked her path.

Out of her peripheral vision, however, she saw Pippin run toward an Orc heading for Gandalf's back—she saw him stick the blade through the Orc's flesh.

The wizard turned around and stumbled backward upon seeing the monster behind him. But he looked even more shocked noticing who held the blade that killed it.

Finally, Gandalf smiled. "Guard of the Citadel, indeed," he sighed, patting the hobbit on the shoulder. "Now go back up the hill. Quickly! Quick!"

Much to the relief of the Elf and the wizard, Pippin obeyed.

Just when Avalain was about to feel relieved, however, a deep and ominous chant filled the air. Consumed with dread, she looked over the gate and inhaled sharply.

Being pulled by more trolls was a large battering ram in the shape of a rabid wolf… Its mouth was flaming, its nose a large point to help break down the main gate of Minas Tirith… As it drew closer to the city, the jeers of the Orcs grew louder. Before long, Avalain identified their screaming as, "_**Grond! Grond! Grond!**_"

"Gandalf!" screamed Avalain, pointing at the weapon. When the wizard saw it, he blanched.

"Come, quickly!" he cried, pulling Avalain and whatever Men could be spared back down to the main level. "Head to the gate!" he shouted to the soldiers. "Hurry!"

Avalain carefully positioned herself to the side of the gate. She climbed boxes and waited above the doors for when the battering ram would break through the door—she knew that once it did, fearsome creatures of strength would burst into the city. Her intent was to leap down onto one and slice its neck open.

Without further delay, the first earsplitting _**BOOM **_filled the air. The middle of the door broke to reveal the flames in Grond's mouth; the wood fell limply to the ground. The battering ram disappeared, though all knew the trolls would release it for a second swing.

Once it did, the hole grew bigger. Seeing that the next swing would break the door open, shouted Gandalf as he saw the fear in the Men's eyes, "You are Soldiers of Gondor! No matter what comes through that door, you will__stand your ground!"

Not a moment later, the pendulum crashed into the door, breaking it straight off its hinges. True to Avalain's suspicions, armed cave trolls sieged the open door—she leapt down and, seeing a weakness in the armor at the neck, screamed in outrage and sliced her hunting knives deep into its throat.

With a groan, the beast toppled to the ground. Before it could fall, however, the Elf nimbly leapt onto the armor of a second troll. Because it had seen what she'd done to its comrade, the second troll attempted to squash her with its meaty hand. But all Avalain did was hop onto the other shoulder and repeat her slash with her two hunting knives.

Now that two of five trolls were out of the way, the Men were less intimidated. And at Avalain's shout of, "Men of Gondor, prove your bravery! Defend your city!" they all sprinted forth to stab at the trolls that had entered.

Once the other three were defeated, more began to take their place. Since Avalain did not have the high ground advantage she'd gained previously, the second wave was harder than the first. Behind her, screamed Gandalf to the archers, "Volley!"

A barrage of arrows rained down upon the trolls, and they all screeched as their hides were pierced. As the Men were preoccupied with the trolls, however, countless Orcs sprinted from behind them and into the city, attempting to run as far as they could before being intercepted. Gandalf, recognizing the danger, bade a number of Men to seal the third floor.

"The city is breached!" shouted the wizard. "Fall back to the second level! Get the women and children out! Get them out! _**Retreat!**_"

Hearing his cries, the Men finished their combat and did their best to run to the second level so they might begin to barricade that entrance as well. The Orcs, however, were fast. A number of them caught up to many Men.

"Hurry!" she cried, pushing them lightly forward. "To the second level!"

She remained slightly behind so she might save as many Men as possible, yet before her very eyes, one red and black Orc savagely began feasting on a dead Man's flesh. Behind him and the carcass, another hacked at a severely wounded soldier. There was nothing Avalain could do to spare him…

With a gasp, she dodged a long sword and retaliated so that particular Orc would threaten her no more. She whirled around and threw a spare knife into the skull of a troll whose helmet had flown off, thus saving three Men in the process.

As she glanced over the streets of the city, however, she knew that there was no way she could save them all. Too many were being detained, and too many were wounded. She did not have enough energy to even save half a dozen… As sad as it was, Avalain was left with no choice except to give as many Men as possible a head start to the second level.

Three minutes passed before she herself was helping to barricade the door of that second level. She grabbed boxes full of hay and wheat and stacked them one atop the other until there was nothing else to bar the door with.

It took the beasts a little less than an hour to break through the second door. Once they appeared, all was fire and blood once again… The archers on the third level provided relief to those with swords on the second, but the scene was still tenacious.

Avalain swung her sword left and right, decapitating an Orc here and stabbing another there. As the Men slowly began to lose ground, the wizard shouted, "Fight! Fight to the last man! Fight for your lives!" Avalain did her best to keep up with his orders and repeat them in case the Men had not heard him. Although she was beginning to grow tired, there was no time for any respite.

That was when she heard, "_**Gandalf! Avalain!**_"

It was Pippin.

The Elvish girl cried out, wondering what he was doing, wandering into the thick of battle. Again he shouted their names—"Gandalf!" screamed the hobbit, looking positively rushed and vexed. Seeing that he had captivated their attention, gasped he, "Denethor has lost his mind! He's burning Faramir alive!"

"_**What?!**_" shrieked Avalain, panic overtaking her.

"Come, quickly!" exclaimed Gandalf. "On my horse!"

Avalain and Pippin both settled themselves on Shadowfax; though the girl was worried that the horse would struggle with the weight of three people, if anything it seemed to make him more determined to reach the destination quicker. Before long, they were at the fifth level, they were almost there—

A deafening shriek filled the air, and Shadowfax stopped short. Intercepting their path was the leader of the Nazgûl: the Witch King of Angmar, riding atop a Fell Beast.

Determined to reach Faramir, however, announced Gandalf, "Go back to the abyss! Fall into the nothingness that awaits you and your master!"

"Do you not know death when you see it, old man?" asked the Witch King. Hearing his voice, Pippin screamed and threw his hands up to his ears to block the unearthly sound… and unearthly it was. It was the sound of scraping knives, of many shrieks of torture combined into one. "This is _**my **_hour!" screamed the Witch King, raising his sword. It was wreathed in flame.

And suddenly, Gandalf's staff burst into shards of wood.

"No! Gandalf!" cried Avalain.

At both the noise of the breaking staff and the Elvish girl's shriek, Shadowfax reared, bucking off all three of his passengers. Pippin was the first to recover; bravely and foolishly he raised his sword and charged the Fell Beast. But all it had to do was roar and Pippin, shocked by the intensity of the situation, stopped.

With a hissed laugh, said the Witch King, "You have failed… the world of Men shall fall…" He began to walk towards Gandalf, though Avalain rose and was about to step in front of him—

The sound of a war horn split through the air, and it was not one of Elves.

Avalain gasped in relief and dared to look at the Fields of Pelennor. True to her hopes, there stood thousands of Men of Rohan, come to Gondor's aid.

The Witch King of Angmar was torn between finishing off the wizard and going to intercept the new forces. His gaze darted back and forth before apparently deciding that without his staff, Gandalf was no longer much of a threat. So he remounted his Fell Beast and took off into the air, another earsplitting shriek reverberating through the air as he did so.

Once the Nazgûl leader was gone, Gandalf quickly soothed Shadowfax so the trio might be able to ride him to the Tombs of Gondor's Kings.

Soon enough, they were standing outside the Tombs; at Gandalf's instruction, Shadowfax kicked the door open.

"Stay this madness!" commanded the wizard. Denethor and the Men inside stared at him with loathing and shock respectively—Avalain leapt off the horse and began to run inside. True to Pippin's word, she saw Faramir lying on a pyre of wood… Denethor was already dripping with oil.

But when she was only halfway to the pyre, Denethor seized a torch one of the Men was holding. He gazed upon her with a cynical smirk… based on the look in his eyes, Avalain knew that he had realized how she felt about his younger son. Seeing his condescending gaze, the princess only raised her chin and glared with abhorrence at him in return.

Denethor seemed to have other things to say, however. Turning to Gandalf, he growled, "You may triumph in the field of battle for a day… but against the power that has risen in the East… There is no victory."

He dropped the torch, and the entire pyre burst into flame.

Avalain screamed; it rivaled the one she had emitted earlier that afternoon upon believing Faramir to be dead. The Men inside had to clamp their ears shut to avert the pain and desperation in her sound… Without anyone blocking her, she sprinted the rest of the way, Gandalf and Pippin behind her on Shadowfax.

The horse kicked Denethor off the pyre, but Faramir remained in the fire. Try as she might, Avalain could not reach past the flames without being burned alive herself—she was just about to climb into the pyre despite that when Pippin leapt off the horse.

She choked back another scream; to think of losing both Pippin _**and **_Faramir! And yet, as she watched, Pippin managed to somehow push Faramir out of the way of danger.

Seeing that his tunic had caught fire, however, Pippin hurriedly stamped it out. Avalain began to run towards the hobbit, but before she could reach him, Denethor had cried out, "_**NOOO!**_"

Neither Gandalf nor Avalain were within arm's distance when the Steward of Gondor grabbed Pippin by the arm and shouted, "You will not take my son from me!"

As Pippin's cries echoed around the chamber, Gandalf ordered Shadowfax to trot forward and kick Denethor back onto the pyre. By this time, the flames were a healthy orange, yellow, and blue… Avalain glanced at the Steward, who had seen something strange.

She followed his line of vision to see that Faramir's eyes were open.

"Faramir…" she heard the Lord Denethor whisper. But even as he smiled, the fire began to devour his flesh; the Steward screamed and rushed off the pyre, but too late. His entire cloak was covered in flame, and there was no water nearby to extinguish it.

Somehow, the Steward succeeded in stumbling out of the Tombs. As he exited, sighed Gandalf, "So passes Denethor, son of Ecthelion."

No longer interested in the Steward, however, Avalain knelt beside Faramir. His eyes were still open.

A tear exited her own eyes. "Faramir," she gasped, placing a hand on the side of his face. Seeing his weak smile, sobbed she, "Oh, I thought you were dead!"

"If… I didn't know better…" began he, though his voice was faint, "I'd say there was… an angel… above me."

Whether it was the stress of battle, the relief of seeing him alive, the direness of the situation at hand, or all of these things, Avalain began to laugh. She laughed for the first time in near three days as she knew that Faramir was alive, he hadn't died, she had been right, there had been a miracle at Osgiliath after all.

Crying and laughing as one, Avalain looked at his eyes. Green, still. Her favorite color.

"Avalain," he murmured. "I'm so sorry."

"No," sighed she. "Do not be. We are here."

He smiled, though his eyes began to flutter. "Don't go… to battle."

"I must," whispered she. His eyes flew open, and he shook his head. Seeing his expression crushed her heart, but even so, whispered Avalain, "So you have answered the call of duty, now I must. I am going to resume my command of the Men… I promise I will return."

Faramir tried to say something, but it turned into a cough. Yet that was no matter. She knew what the word would've been; her name.

Blinking back tears, murmured she, "I promise that I will return…" She did not listen to what he attempted to say—instead, she kissed his forehead and murmured soothingly, "Sleep, Faramir… You must regain your strength."

It looked like he wanted to protest, to stay awake and make sure Avalain would not return to combat, but his eyes were closing; finally they did, and after Gandalf charged the Men and Pippin to take him to the Houses of Healing, he and Avalain began walking down the steps to where the battle had last taken place.

When they found the Men, however, it looked like they had lost a lot of ground without their commanders. They were on the fourth floor, two floors above where they had been last. Avalain and Gandalf exchanged looks, knowing that they needed to regain their lost ground.

Currently, the Men were barricading the door. The Orcs had not yet broken through to the fourth floor… Avalain began stacking crates and heavy items as Gandalf shouted for the archers to gather on the fifth floor, and for half of them to switch to swords and remain on the fourth. The few catapults that remained undamaged and manned were ordered to shoot at the trolls within the city, because the reinforcements from Rohan had clashed with the Orcs that were still on the Fields of Pelennor.

Once everything that could be spared was stacked against the wall, Avalain and Gandalf sat together off to the side to wait. Before long, Pippin joined them—the wizard gave him a look, but the hobbit reassured both of them that the Men were taking good care of Faramir in the Houses of Healing. He was being given whatever medicine he needed to insure his full recovery.

Avalain could not help but sigh in relief. Her eyes closed, and she smiled more than she had in a long time, even though a monstrous army was right outside the door.

Hearing the bangs of the log as it slammed against the gate, sighed Pippin, "I didn't think it would end this way…"

"End?" asked Gandalf. "No, the journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path… one that we all must take. The gray rain curtain of this world falls back, and all turns to silver glass…" With this last, the wizard stared off into space, as if recalling it. "And then you see it."

"See what?" questioned the hobbit.

Avalain smiled. She knew of what Gandalf spoke. "Valinor," whispered she. "The Undying Lands."

The wizard nodded pensively. "White shores, and beyond. A far green country under a swift sunrise…"

Pippin was mesmerized by the simple description. It was, in fact, its simplicity that fascinated him so. "Well, that doesn't sound so bad," he murmured, lost in his thoughts.

Gandalf looked at him and nodded slowly. "No… no, it isn't."

Avalain smiled, though there were tears in her eyes. "As beautiful as the land may be, I have hope. I have faith in Men. Even so, should I perish in this life, I would be more than willing to embrace my country."

A sudden _**THUMP **_upon the door jarred the trio from their daydreams. The shouts of the Men grew louder, and they knew that soon, the barricade would give way. The girl sighed; though seeing Faramir alive had strengthened her heart, her body was still exhausted.

That was when she remembered the reinforcements—and who would be with them.

"Gandalf!" cried she, "I must go to the people of Rohan."

"Why?" asked Gandalf, his eyes fixed upon the door.

"If I can bring Aragorn back here to claim the throne and give hope to Men, would that not be further inspiration to repel these beasts from the city?"

A light of hope passed through the wizard's gaze. "Of course…" he mumbled, and he nodded feverishly. "Go, Avalain. Find Aragorn and the others as well if you can. We shall need all the help we can get in this dire hour."

Avalain rose to her feet and prepared to exit the city by jumping atop the rooftops to get to the first floor. With a sly smile, responded she, "I shall return as swiftly as I can." And with that, she climbed the stairs to the fifth floor and leaped upon the roof of a building on the fourth. She continued descending from one roof to another to another until she was on the roof of a building upon the first floor.

By this time, however, Orcs had spotted her. Archers shot countless arrows at her, though luckily their aim was very sloppy and the closest one to her was still a good six inches away. Avalain decided it was worth the risk—she would have to jump upon the main gates in order to slip over the wall and join Rohan's people.

With a deep breath, she executed her plan. There was a sharp stab in her left forearm, but she did not cry out. The arrow had only grazed her arm, not been implanted within it.

After she dropped down past the gate, Avalain perused the battlefield from the side of Rohan. She estimated that around six to seven-thousand Men consisted of the cavalry. Countless bodies of Orcs and Men lay upon the ground, though thankfully there were many more of the former than the latter. Everywhere she looked, horses trampled more beasts, a sight that made her smile.

That was when she saw Oliphaunts squashing Rohan's cavalry as well.

Despite how many Men were stepped upon, it was still a right sight better than what was occurring _**inside **_the city. But the field was so chaotic that Avalain could not spot even Legolas's fair hair anywhere within a hundred feet of herself.

Knowing that she would have to cover more ground in order to find Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli, Avalain began running forward, shooting down the foot soldiers, since they were more of a threat to cavalry than the archers. She whirled around and slashed and stabbed, and yet there were endless amounts of Orcs, even more than there had been within the gates. This did not make her search for the King of Gondor any easier.

A familiar blood-curling screech echoed over the horizon. Avalain used her Elvish vision to search for the sound—even with that enhancement, all she could see was a person with long fair hair standing above the Witch King of Angmar, his helmet unmistakable even at the distance.

The Elvish girl smiled grimly. At last, a warrior strong enough to best fear itself.

For a half hour more, Avalain fought on the fields of Pelennor. She was able to find Éomer before Aragorn; though he did not see her, Avalain was glad to see him. At least the Captain of the Rohirrim was alive… for now.

At last, however, the Elvish princess heard a familiar voice shout, "_**Forward!**_"

The Elf girl whirled around to face Aragorn; Avalain cried out in relief and began sprinting towards him—seeing her, the Ranger grinned with pure ecstasy. "Avalain!" he gasped, allowing her to run into his arms. As they embraced one another, an Orc headed for Avalain's back; Aragorn threw a dagger into his breastplate and sent it crumpling.

"I'm so glad you're alive!" exclaimed the girl. She swiftly withdrew her bow, nocked an arrow, and shot a wicked Man that sat atop an Oliphaunt. Feeling the reins go slack, the Oliphaunt went wild, turned around, and crushed many of the Orcs behind it.

"Beautiful shot," admired Aragorn, making Avalain flush. Then, returning to what she had previously said, answered he, "As I am so relieved to see you. When we saw what destruction had befallen the city, I feared the worst…"

"Do not worry," said she. "I am here, and Gandalf and Pippin, when I left them, were in one piece as well."

"That is well news," said the Man. Just then, there was a roar and a dull _**thud **_as an axe was directed into an iron helm.

"Take _**that!**_ Twenty-three!" shouted Gimli only ten feet away.

Avalain grinned and opened her mouth to call his name; but green smoke flew in front of her. She blinked blankly and stared after the fleeting figure… it was like a ghost of a warmongering spirit.

"Did you see that?" queried she, afraid that she was losing her mind.

Noting what she spoke of, Aragorn smiled. "Be not afraid of them. They are our reinforcements… It's a long story," he added in response to her confused expression. "I will tell you once the battle is over."

"If we win," muttered Avalain.

"Oh, I believe we will!" shouted Gimli, now that he was within earshot. _**THUD**_ went the axe as it chopped an Orc's head clean off its body. "Twenty-_**five!**_"

Just then, an arrow whizzed past Avalain's head and implanted itself within another Orc's skull. "Thirty!" shouted another familiar voice. "Avalain!" it cried, and she felt herself being spun around and then embraced so hard she could hardly gasp for breath.

"Legolas!" she choked with a wild grin. Her hope had not been misplaced… Fate was steadily turning the battle uphill… She threw her arms around his back, so glad was she to see him alive. It was all but believable—everyone she loved had thus far been spared.

When she spoke this aloud, Gimli laughed. "Well, we've only been out here an hour or so!"

"Has it only been that long?" frowned Avalain. "Rohan arrived at dawn; it must be nearly mid-afternoon now…"

The Elf smiled knowingly. "We were a little late."

"Then that means I'm winning," grinned Avalain smugly. With that, she whirled around and stabbed an Orc that had raised its sword to Gimli's back. "Two-hundred and ten!" shouted she, knowing that although she was not exactly correct with that number, she was very close.

"_**What?!**_" gasped the Dwarf in disbelief. "I'll have no dainty princess outscoring _**me!**_" And he began swinging his axe as fearsomely as before.

Legolas, however, did not take upon this jesting exchange. He put a hand on Avalain's shoulders and asked quietly, concern in his bright blue eyes, "How long have you been fighting?"

Seeing that she could not simply brush off the question without him persisting and persisting—it was Legolas's very nature—sighed Avalain reluctantly, "Since dusk yester-eve. Gandalf and I have been commanding the Men within the city, yet I asked for permission to come and find you."

"Avalain, you must rest," said Legolas. "Too long have you been in this field of war."

"Yet the battle is not over," retorted Avalain, "and I refuse to rest until it is."

Her friend did not receive a chance to respond, for at that moment, Aragorn's scream filled the air. "_**Legolas!**_"

Both Elves turned to see what Aragorn pointed at—it was an Oliphaunt charging straight towards the scattered remains of Rohan's cavalry within the last of the Orcs foot soldiers. Without waiting for any further instruction, Legolas bounded forward and grabbed a rope that dangled from the wooden contraption upon the Oliphaunt's back. Swiftly he climbed and dispatched the wicked Men atop the animal, shouting, "Thirty-three! Thirty-four!" as he did so.

Avalain could not help but laugh at his antics and, seeing a second Oliphaunt catching up with the one Legolas was bringing down, decided that if he could defeat one, so could she. So she charged forward, leapt and climbed the rope just as her friend did, and shouted, "Two-hundred and twelve! Thirteen!" as she shot her arrows into their skulls.

When at last both Elves had ridden the Oliphaunts of their passengers, they nodded at one another and shot two arrows into the heads of their respective Oliphaunt.

Both creatures screeched and reared back—as Legolas's beast toppled, he slid off the creature's trunk and landed easily on the ground. Meanwhile, Avalain waited until the ground was near, then ran across its tusk and jumped.

The Dwarf, who had seen the spectacles, gazed at them with shock. But all he said was, "That still only counts as one!"

Avalain laughed again and returned to the field of battle. She charged the Orcs that were of the most danger to the cavalry, and again everything was chaos and death. Yet it seemed that out on the Fields of Pelennor, more Orcs were falling as opposed to Men.

Before long, Legolas caught up to her again, determined to make sure she would be safe after so long a battle. To keep her fighting, he challenged her to an Oliphaunt-defeating contest in addition to the number of kills they had—teased Gimli as a grumble, "You nimble show-offs! Hragh!" And then he would swing his axe and chop off the head of another Orc.

Meanwhile, Avalain was battered by Legolas, who continually said, "I personally believe you are not qualified to participate in this round! You've been at it ten times as long as we!"

"That's a shame!" shouted Avalain in retort. She took swift aim for an Orc atop an Oliphaunt. "You've missed all the fun!"

Her friends laughed, and then said Gimli, "Aye, that we have. There's still time to make up for it, though!"

As he said this, however, the green spirits that Aragorn and the others had brought as reinforcements swarmed the large army of Orcs and wicked Men. The enemy was soon overcome. Once the fields were purged of evil, they raided the city, scouting more banes to swallow into the ground.

"I'm actually afraid there's not," contradicted Aragorn as he calmly walked back to the other three. Seeing that there were only a few Orcs remaining, Aragorn embraced Avalain again. "I'm so glad to see you alive," he murmured. Then, pulling away and placing his hands on her shoulders, asked he, "Did you find what you were looking for?"

"What?" asked Avalain, puzzled. It was at Aragorn's shocked expression that she remembered her mental state when last she had seen them. "Oh!" she gasped, realizing this. Then, breaking into a large smile, she nodded and answered, "Yes, my brother, I found him. He is fine… Although he won't be for long…"

Her eyes narrowed and she glared lightly up at the white city. Aragorn looked astonished at her change in emotion and questioned, "Why do you say that?"

Avalain sighed. "I do not really mean it. It is a long story... The short version is, he attempted to retake Osgiliath when it was entirely overrun with Orcs, I wanted to come with him, he said yes, and then he poisoned me and told Gandalf I was not to join him upon my awakening. He comes back all but dead, I healed him; he's in the Houses of Healing."

"And that's the short version?" asked the Dwarf gruffly. There were lines around his eyes, however, that showed he was smiling.

She laughed. "It is indeed. And speaking of long stories—_**you **_have one to tell me." Avalain glanced at each of the trio in turn. "What were those ghosts who came to aid us?"

And so Aragorn told her about the Paths of the Dead, how there was a legend that the people who lived in the mountain swore an oath to Isildur that they would aid him in battle. Yet when Isildur called upon the mountain people, they did not come. Because of that, they were cursed to live after death—they would only answer to the King of Gondor.

Here, Aragorn stopped and shrugged. But Gimli and Legolas finished the story of how commandeering Aragorn was over the Dead Army, and how he was indeed the hope of Men, started in that very hour.

Once it was finished, the girl smiled. "I am glad to hear of this. It lightens my heart and gives me hope."

Just then, Avalain noticed one of the ghosts they had been speaking of coming closer. Her eyes widened to see that it was half Man, half zombie… Its face was rotted, yet its eyes withheld the light of the sun.

It stood in front of Aragorn, its gaze a mixture of suspicion and relief. "Release us," it said.

Aragorn gazed upon what Avalain guessed was the King of the Dead Army. There was a silence—and then, hissed Gimli, "Bad idea. Very handy in a tight spot, these lads, despite the fact they're dead."

"You gave us your word," spat the King, seeming worried. The She-Elf couldn't help but wonder how long these spirits had remained in their mountain, waiting for the King so he might call upon them and give them eternal rest.

"I hold your oath fulfilled," said Aragorn, nodding at the Dead King. "Go… be at peace."

Hearing this, the Dead King smiled. It was the most alive he looked, and it was with this expression upon his face that his ghostly form shuddered and turned to green and white dust. It whisked away up toward the sky, and soon he was followed the rest of his army.

Gandalf walked up to them then and, seeing Aragorn as he began to slowly take his place as King, bowed. Aragorn only smiled slightly and said nothing…

Out of the peace that had emerged, however, came screams of grief. Avalain whirled around to see Éomer and Théodred, both of them sprinting toward a soldier upon the ground.

Without waiting for permission, Avalain ran toward them. The expressions upon their faces tore at her heart—they were of utmost sorrow and anguish. Éomer held the soldier against his body, so she could not see who it was… But it became painstakingly obvious when a third soldier took off his helmet.

"_**Sister!**_" cried Eleanor, falling to her knees. She dropped the helmet she had removed and began to sob bitterly.

Seeing the sorrow of the royal family of Rohan, Avalain was very moved. Tears sprung to her own eyes seeing her friend, Éowyn, upon the ground, pale as death. Her left arm looked broken—her right arm was black. Beside her, upon the ground, lay King Théoden. He was dead.

"Éomer," whispered Avalain to him. "Let me see her."

The Captain of the Rohirrim stared at her, tears in his eyes. "Please," he cried. "Please." It seemed like it was all he could say.

Théodred too looked upon Avalain and said something incomprehensible. She knew, however, that it was along the lines of, _I cannot live without her._

And so the princess set out to work. She took all the energy she could spare from herself—at Eleanor's, Théodred's, and Éomer's insistence, she withdrew as much energy as she dared from them as well to ensure Éowyn's survival.

Before long, she was finished. She looked up at Éomer's heartbroken face and smiled. "She will need rest and medicine. But she will live."

Without warning, Éomer threw his arms around the Elvish girl. She gasped at the suddenness of the move, but she only smiled and returned his embrace. "Thank you," he gasped. "My sister…"

"I am very glad to have helped. I would do it a thousand times over," she reassured him. "I promise—give her a week. She will be walking again soon."

That was when Avalain realized Eleanor and Théodred were embracing her too, as if she were family. Tears sprung to her eyes as she recalled her _**own **_sister… what had become of Arwen? Was she sailing for Valinor, or had she refused to leave the shores of Middle-Earth? She did not even know…

When finally the family of Rohan released her, she smiled and said, "I am very glad to see all of you alive."

"As we are you," answered Théodred. He smiled at her—Avalain was relieved to see his gaze held no trace of romantic love as it once had. Then asked he, "Did you find your Captain?"

At this, she smiled and relayed the short version of the story to the trio before her. Hearing her good fortune, they smiled; Eleanor put a hand on Avalain's shoulder and murmured, "I knew it would turn out well. Fate would not be cruel to you after the service you have done for the good people of Middle-Earth."

"Thank you, Eleanor," sighed she. "But if you will excuse me, I must heal others as I can… Be careful when you transport Éowyn. Her left arm is broken."

They assured her that they would be careful, and Avalain walked away, seeking out wounded soldiers. She was out for a long while; two hours passed, and she managed to heal close to three dozen Men, a strange accomplishment for what little energy she had.

She discovered then that it was because she had begun to hope. Joy, happiness, and hope had always made her spells more powerful, had always made _**her **_more powerful.

Knowing that she was correct with this assumption, she proceeded to walk around the battlefield, searching for Men who needed her aid. As she saved the sixty-fifth Man, as he thanked her over and over again and said that she was a savior of Middle-Earth, Avalain realized that it wasn't just her hope that made her powerful.

It was the hope of others too.

Night had fallen by the time Avalain returned to the Houses of Healing. Upon seeing Aragorn once again, she instantly demanded where Merry was, for she knew that he had remained in Rohan.

He informed her that he had remained with the family of Rohan to charge the battle to come. "Pippin is out there, looking for him now," said Aragorn as he attended to Éowyn's wounds. He was trying to finish the work Avalain had started. "I suspect he will return soon."

But the battle had been fierce, and Avalain was not comforted.

In another hour, however, it turned out there had been no reason for her to worry—in came Pippin, dragging Merry after him. With a cry, Avalain relieved Pippin of Merry's custody and immediately began performing Elvish spells upon his arm, which had taken most of the damage. Afterward, she took a cool cloth and wiped the dried blood away from his forehead and nose. In his sleep, Merry sighed and turned… She smiled; her dear hobbit would be all right.

Left with not much else to do, Avalain returned to Faramir's side. He was still asleep… Though she knew perfectly well that he would be fine, she was still concerned.

That was when Gimli plopped down next to her. "So this is that Captain, eh?" asked he, glaring at Faramir suspiciously.

Seeing his gaze, Avalain giggled. "Yes."

He looked at Faramir with a hand to his chin, as if contemplating. "Well," he said, "He has a sword. That's good. He can defend you—not that you need it," he added as a laugh. "I know he's a Captain… Also good. Means he's well thought of."

After another moment of the Dwarf evaluating Faramir, announced he, "Very well! I approve!"

At this, Avalain burst into laughter. His job done, the Dwarf harrumphed and exclaimed, "Very good, then. I best be off. I shall see you in the morning!"

Even after he was gone, Avalain was still laughing. It was almost as if Gimli considered himself as her parental figure—she wouldn't be surprised if he did. He was very protective and loyal to his friends. She could not help but laugh all the more upon thinking that now she had _**three **_fathers: one Elf, one wizard, one Dwarf.

That was when she heard a weak, "Avalain…" and felt Faramir grab her hand.

She gasped and looked upon him, a smile on her face. "Faramir!"

He smiled weakly. "You're smiling," he noticed. "That's… good… Are we alive?"

"Yes," answered Avalain. "Yes, we are both alive. Trust me—you will see."

He smiled again. "I believe you." And he fell asleep again.

But Avalain noticed that he had not let go of her hand.


	21. Chapter 21

The following morning, Avalain was called to council within the throne room of Gondor. Gandalf had summoned her early in the morning, but seeing her tired state, he postponed the meeting until mid-afternoon so that she might regain her rest after such a weary battle and tiring healing spells.

Once she felt ready to talk war, she walked to the throne room and thought wistfully of how just a few days ago, Pippin was being knighted there. Yet that memory also included Denethor—she scowled at the thought of that wretched Steward.

She looked at Aragorn and smirked. Who needed a Steward when a King had come?

That was when Avalain saw who had arrived: Aragorn, Gandalf, Legolas, Gimli, Théodred, and Éomer. It was a small gathering. The Elvish girl decided to ask about the purpose of the impromptu meeting. "Why have we been summoned, Gandalf?"

"Frodo has passed beyond my sight…" answered he. "The Darkness is deepening."

"Do not forget that the land of Mordor has a strange spell upon it," said Avalain. "No one can see inside its walls. This may only mean that Frodo is getting that much closer to Mount Doom."

"Indeed," said Aragorn. "If Sauron had the Ring, we would know it."

Sighed Gandalf anxiously, "It's only a matter of time. He has suffered a defeat, yes, but… behind the walls of Mordor, our enemy is regrouping."

Groaned Gimli, "Let him stay there. Let him rot! Why should we care?" It was here that Avalain noticed he was sitting laxly upon the throne of Gondor, smoking his pipe. She bit her tongue to keep from laughing and glanced at Aragorn to see how he would take it—apparently, he did not care very much, because he only smiled at the sight.

"Because ten-thousand Orcs now stand between Frodo and Mount Doom," answered Gandalf, his face ashen. His eyes lost light as he whispered, "I have sent him to his death…"

"No," replied Aragorn. "There is still hope for Frodo. He needs time, and safe passage across the plains of Gorgoroth. We can give him that."

"How would we do that?" asked Théodred.

Aragorn turned to face all who were present in the throne room. Then, with a look of utmost sincerity, he responded, "Draw out Sauron's armies. Empty his lands. Then we gather our full strength and march on the Black Gate."

Hearing this all but preposterous theory, Gimli choked on whatever pipe weed he was smoking. It seemed that he believed Aragorn's suggestion to be a darkly humorous joke.

Éomer stepped forth and said, "We cannot achieve victory through strength of arms."

"Not for ourselves," acknowledged Aragorn. "But we _**can **_give Frodo his chance if we keep Sauron's Eye fixed upon us." He glanced at Avalain and saw the readiness in her gaze. Then, looking at all else in the throne room, he added with a smirk, "Keep him blind to all else that moves."

"A diversion," clarified Legolas, nodding.

The Dwarf laughed. "Certainty of death, small chance of success… what are we waiting for?"

Avalain laughed at his comment, yet her joy was short lived as Gandalf approached Aragorn and said, "Sauron will suspect a trap. He will not take the bait."

"Oh, I think he will," contradicted Aragorn. He wore the same smirk upon his face, a smirk that Avalain was glad to see. It had been long since he'd worn it.

"Just don't do anything rash, Aragorn," said Avalain. "I daresay this could either save our heads or spear them on pikes."

Aragorn nodded at her and responded, "Worry not, sister. I have a plan…"

The meeting adjourned, and everyone went their separate ways. Legolas went to go speak with Eleanor about what had just occurred, and to tell her that he would be riding to the Black Gate alongside Aragorn. Avalain decided it would be wise to inform Faramir of the same things, seeing as she too was intent on fighting beside the King of Gondor.

When she arrived at the Houses of Healing, she cast a sleeping charm on a Man in extreme pain. He was to have his left leg amputated that very afternoon, and his wife pleaded with her to at least let him sleep through the misery. Avalain had quickly obliged—afterward, however, she swiftly grabbed a cool cloth and disappeared to where Faramir lay so that she might not be detained any further.

After closing the door behind her, Avalain sat at his bedside and placed the cloth over his forehead. He had been running a small fever, though it was nothing alarming. She remained there for a minute before restlessly rising and glancing out the window.

She looked out into the foyer and saw the royal family of Rohan in the opposite room, by Éowyn's bedside. Théodred caught her eye, and he smiled—she returned it, knowing that he had found his way at last.

"You came," said a voice behind her.

Avalain whirled around to face Faramir, who was struggling to sit up. With a light laugh, said she, "Be careful, or you'll only hurt yourself."

"I will not," he objected. "You're here to help me."

She was about to respond when she discovered that he was indeed correct. And so it was with another laugh that she murmured, "Well, yes, I am, but…"

Now it was he to laugh. With help from Avalain, he sat up and looked at her. "I cannot believe it," whispered he. "You're alive… After what battle has raged here, you survived."

"I'm a survivor," smiled Avalain grimly. "I wish more Men could say the same. This battle did not come without a price…"

"I understand," replied he. "But even so, it is well for us that there is hope. We have a chance at life and happiness together now…"

Remembering why she had come, Avalain's smile faded. She knew she had to tell him—but doing so would only bring him sadness. Seeing his face so full of love and hope made her begin to reconsider.

But Faramir could read her like an open book. "There is something you are not telling me."

Her amber eyes darted to his face before she looked away again. "Yes," she responded simply. But she wished she did not have to elaborate on the matter—not now, when everything seemed to be turning for the better.

"Tell me."

Avalain sighed. She did not wish to. "It will do nothing but harm."

Now he frowned. "I doubt that keeping it from me will do any _**help.**_ Especially if it's anything related to you—you know how I worry about you, Avalain. Do I need to remind you of what I said in Ithilien?"

"No," answered she. "I remember, clear as day. You need not speak the words again."

"It appears I'll have to, because you seem to heed them little," muttered Faramir, his eyes narrowing.

Now it was Avalain who narrowed her gaze. "Desperate times call for desperate measures. Now, I wish not to argue with you, not now that we—"

"Then tell me what is going on!" exclaimed Faramir. His face, which had been caring and kind towards her just a minute beforehand, was now filled with apprehension and withheld anger. "If I were to lose you without knowing why, after all that has happened, that would be a fate worse than death!"

"So you understand what my situation had been but two nights ago!" shouted Avalain, tears beginning to well in her eyes. She was so angry with herself for them—such anger only made them spill over her cheek. "And yet you did not listen! Why, must I ask, was that? Because you made sure to keep me alive? Well, so I wish now to keep _**you **_alive when I ride out to the Black Gate!"

"_**What?**_" gasped Faramir. He tried to stand, but his legs were still weak, and he fell upon the bed. Avalain gasped and hurried to upright him, however upset she was. "No, Avalain!" he exclaimed even as she made sure he was all right. "Have you not done enough for Middle-Earth already? You have given away your safety, your family—are you to give away your life as well?!"

"I set out on a _**quest,**_ Faramir! A quest to save Middle-Earth! And I promised to defend it and its freedom with either my life or death, by whichever way I could serve her! I will not live to see days filled with shadow and darkness and fear, not when there is something I can do to prevent it! You can do nothing to stop me—I ride with Aragorn to the Black Gate. Nothing you might say will change my mind." Avalain finished her spiel, but quickly wondered whether it had been a good idea.

Faramir took all of this with a hand to his forehead. He carefully hid his face, so Avalain could not see his expression. Not knowing what he was to say, Avalain's tears continued falling. "Had I not set out with the freedom of Middle-Earth as my goal, I would not be riding. I am sorry, Faramir. But I must do this."

He still said nothing. It was silent but for the chirping birds and the sound of voices outside. After two minutes of not seeing his face or hearing his voice, Avalain could take it no longer. "Faramir, _**say **_something! Please!"

Despite her pleads, he remained silent for another moment. But then, with a deep breath, he finally said, "Go, if you wish. There is nothing I can do to stop you."

Avalain's heart broke hearing his voice. "Look at me…"

He did so, and the pain in his eyes only further split her heart. She placed a hand on his face and murmured, "I will come back."

"You cannot promise that," he whispered.

"I can do my best to fulfill it," said she. "Frodo needs a diversion to succeed. I must be part of that distraction… Sauron knows who I am. If I am not there, he will suspect."

"He knows you?" gasped Faramir.

Avalain smiled grimly and looked away. "I… may or may not have killed two more of his Nazgûl."

"_**What?**_"

"But that's beside the point. I must go—and I may return. I have before, as have you. Who is to say our luck will fail now?" With this last, Avalain smiled again and looked at Faramir. "Everyone together, with all this hope, will be enough strength for us to defeat Mordor's armies three times over. I am convinced of this."

Again there was silence… until finally, said Faramir, "Very well, Avalain. I must trust in you and in hope, however much I wish I did not have to." He looked at her face and gently wiped away the last of her tear-streaks. Then, with a small smile, he murmured, "I cannot believe you killed five of the nine Nazgûl. It seems there is much I did not know… What else have you done? Taken a leisurely stroll through Minas Morgul?"

At this, Avalain laughed. She kissed his forehead and replied, "That is on my to do list."

Now they both laughed for a while, and Faramir kissed her lightly before saying, "Do not leave just yet. I wish to be with you as long as possible before you are to go…"

Avalain obliged, and for another few hours they remained together, talking quietly about the past and the present, though both carefully avoided the future. They spoke of good memories from years before, such as the first time they practiced archery in the garden, to their training the hobbits together in Ithilien.

Recalling these memories, they were quiet for a moment. Both remembered Boromir—said Avalain, "I know that he is in Valinor. I feel it in my heart. He is away from this veil of darkness; he is far into the light. Someday we shall see him again."

Faramir smiled. "Yes… I feel the same. I know that again we will meet, whether in this life or in another."

At last, however, when it was dark and Avalain knew she needed to rest and gain her strength, she heard Faramir say, "I wish I could go with you tomorrow, Avalain. But I cannot… Know that I love you with all I am, and for your own sake, do not succumb to the darkness until there is absolutely no light left. Remember you have many who love you, not just myself…"

She kissed his forehead again. "I will remember. Not one million years could make me forget." She began to rise and head for the door, but something stopped her. It was a feeling inside her chest that made her recall two nights previously.

She turned and said, "It does not matter where I am. I will achieve as much rest here as I might elsewhere." With that, she sat back down upon the bed and smiled. Then, as Faramir's eyes were closing, she took off her necklace and clasped it around his.

Whispered she, "No matter what may happen at the Black Gate, keep this. It will prove that I will love you for eternity…"

"Avalain…" he murmured, and then he fell asleep.

Twenty minutes later, she was asleep as well.

The next morning, Avalain awoke at dawn.

She rose, careful not to wake Faramir. He needed to regain his strength perhaps even more than she did. It was quietly that she slipped out the door in order to prepare Brismath for riding to the Black Gate.

Aragorn, Legolas, and Gandalf were already present in the throne room when she arrived. Seeing her, Aragorn tossed her a banana and Legolas handed her a canteen of water.

"Well, well," she said, opening the water. With a sly smile, asked she, "Bit prepared, are we, boys?"

"Ready in supply, although not ready in heart," said Legolas. His eyes looked sad—Avalain figured that his conversation with Eleanor the previous night had gone about the same as hers had with Faramir.

They shared a plaintive look. The Elvish girl could not help but smile knowing that even after being separated, they could easily share looks and know perfectly well what the other meant.

At that moment, Legolas jerked his head in Aragorn's direction. The girl glanced at Aragorn and blinked… He looked weary compared to when last she had seen him. There was something off about it as well.

Then she noticed it.

Arwen's necklace was gone.

She gasped—that necklace was the container of Arwen's immortal life. Though of course her sister would have surely chosen a Mortal life anyway, the fact that the pendant had _**broken **_shattered Avalain's heart.

"Arwen," she choked out. Aragorn looked at Avalain out of the corner of his eye. "How is she?!" she asked.

There was a short silence before Aragorn answered. "She is still in Rivendell; she chose to remain in Middle-Earth. Lord Elrond is with her… she is very ill. The light of her star is fading because of this impending darkness."

The younger princess threw a hand to her throat where her necklace would have been… To think that her sister might perish without her saying goodbye was enough for Avalain to break into a coughing fit.

Legolas rushed over to her and helped her breathe again. When finally she removed her hand from her throat, he noticed that her necklace was gone as well. Avalain saw where his gaze was—she met his eyes. And then, with one of the most sincere smiles he had ever given her, he kissed her forehead. "I wish you all the happiness in the world…"

Avalain smiled, though it was weak. She could not get her dear sister out of her mind…

Just then, there were three sets of footsteps. Avalain looked to the hallway to see Merry, Pippin, and Gimli all hustling to meet them. Both hobbits were dressed in battle armor and had short swords at their sides. "Oi! We're coming too!" they declared.

Said Gimli, "I do believe that we best be going soon if we are to give Frodo the distraction he needs."

"Indeed; he will be at the plains of Gorgoroth before long," said Legolas.

"Come," said Gandalf then. He had been so quiet, Avalain had forgotten he was in the room. "We should gather the Men and set out for the Black Gate. With luck, we shall reach it midmorning tomorrow…"

And with that, they all exited the throne room to find their horses.

Gandalf's prediction of reaching the Black Gate around midmorning the following day was quite correct. Because there were not nearly as many Men as there had been before the battle for Minas Tirith, they moved rather quickly. Often Avalain would ride close to the back with Théodred, each of them inspiring the people as best as they could.

Merry often rode with Avalain upon Brismath; Gandalf took charge of Pippin upon Shadowfax. At noon, the White Army, consisting of four thousand Men of Gondor and three and a half thousand Men of Rohan, stood in front of the Black Gates. At the head of the army rode Éomer, Avalain with Merry, Gandalf with Pippin, Théodred, Aragorn, and Legolas with Gimli. All were upon horses, and it was Aragorn who stepped forward to show his leadership over the army.

Yet strangely, there was no response from the Gates. They did not open…

"Where are they?" whispered Pippin.

Confused, Aragorn began to ride closer to the Black Gate. All the others with horses soon followed his lead.

Seeing the absence of any presence from Mordor, shouted Aragorn, "Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth! Let justice be done upon him!"

Finally, the Gate opened. Yet there was no army behind it—instead, it was a horrid creature with a helmet that obscured the vast majority of its face. Its mouth was the only visible thing, and it rode toward the small party on a black horse. It was cloaked in black, yet underneath that cloak Avalain knew it was wearing armor… There would be a battle, she knew, however long Sauron decided to delay it.

Finally, the creature spoke. When it did, all could see that its teeth were elongated and close to yellow in color. Its voice was deep, yet not intimidating. Its tongue was a sickly black color, as if the insides of it were as dark as its soul.

"My Master, Sauron the Great, bids thee welcome," said what Avalain could only call the Mouth of Sauron. He seemed to look across the small company that stood in front of him, though Avalain could not be certain of that since she could not see his eyes.

Hearing the silence from the White Army representatives, asked the Mouth, "Is there any in this rout with the authority to treat me?"

"You best watch your tongue," snapped Avalain. "Or I'll cut it out."

The Mouth grinned at her angry retort. "Ah-ha," it said. "Avalain Nightshade of Rivendell. My Master acknowledges that you are powerful—five of our best servants, fallen to your hand. But you will fail now. You will die and leave behind your dying sister, as well as your lucky soldier. For compared to the Lord of Mordor, you are an ant… and you _**will **_be squashed."

"We shall see, creature," answered Avalain.

Here, the Mouth laughed, as if she amused him. Then he glanced around and asked, "I ask thee again… Who will treat me?"

"We do not come to treat with Sauron, Faithless and Accursed!" said Gandalf. "Tell your Master this: The armies of Mordor must disband. He is to depart these lands, never to return!"

"Ah-ha," chuckled the Mouth. "Old Graybeard…" He gasped then, as if he'd remembered something important. "I have a token I was bidden to show thee."

With that, he withdrew something from underneath his cloak. Avalain's eyes widened seeing that it was Frodo's mithril shirt… But she knew that she must not betray any sign of weakness—not to the Mouth of the Dark Lord.

The hobbits, however, could not contain their grief. "Frodo… Frodo!" exclaimed Pippin. His eyes were fixed upon the mithril jacket.

"Silence," murmured Gandalf, though he too looked disheveled and upset.

"No!" cried Merry.

"Silence!" repeated Gandalf.

The others looked on without a word… Noting the expressions on the hobbits' faces, however, the Mouth of Sauron laughed lightly. "The halfling was dear to thee, I see… Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host."

"You lie," growled Avalain. "Tis all evil ever does. I do not believe you!" She withdrew her sword and pointed it at the Mouth's neck.

But all it did was smile. "And dear to thee as well, princess? I expected nothing less… So it shall break your heart when I ask, who knew one so small could endure so much pain?"

The wizard closed his eyes in remorse. Avalain pressed the sword tip a little deeper into the Mouth's neck. "And he did, Gandalf… He did..." murmured the Mouth.

"He lies!" shouted Avalain. "I do not believe it—neither should the lot of you! Have you no faith? Have ye any? Do not believe him! He is a snake!"

Sighed Aragorn, "Avalain, put down your sword."

"With all due respect—no."

"Very well…" said Aragorn, surprisingly not putting up a fight. Avalain watched as he trotted forward upon Brego, his eyes boring into the covered face of the Mouth of Sauron.

The Mouth merely glanced at Aragorn. "And who is this?" he asked. Avalain hissed, knowing that he knew perfectly well who it was. "Isildur's heir? It takes more to make a King than a broken Elvish blade."

Aragorn reached Sauron's representative. Then, with a tremendous yell, he unsheathed his sword, batted Avalain's aside, and beheaded the Mouth.

Gimli gained a small smirk. "I guess that concludes negotiations."

"Avalain is right!" announced Aragorn. "I do not believe it. I_** will not.**_"

Just then, a screeching sound of metal upon metal sounded. All turned to find the Black Gates were opening—and this time, behind them marched out the Black Army of Mordor.

Knowing that he needed to return and inspire the Men, said Aragorn to the others, "Fall back! Fall back!" He returned to the Men and shouted to them, "Hold your ground! Hold your ground…" At his command, Avalain and the others dismounted from their horses and returned to their positions at the front line. Then, shouted Aragorn, "Sons of Gondor! Of Rohan! My brothers… I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me—a day may come when the strength of Men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of Fellowship, but it is not this day! An hour of wolves and shattered shields when the age of Men comes crashing down, but it is _**not**_ this day! This day, we fight! By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you _**stand! Men of the West!**_"

And with this last, the Men of Gondor and Rohan began cheering triumphantly, inspired by their King. Avalain herself raised her sword and screamed to the sky, knowing that this day, there would be freedom for eternity, or the birth of a memory of rebellion that would last for thousands of years to come.

Beside her, the hobbits withdrew their short swords and screamed as well, as did Legolas and Gimli and Éomer and Théodred and all the Men whom Avalain had come to know as her friends… She watched as the army of Mordor encircled all the Men to ensure there would be no survivors.

That was when Avalain heard, from between her and Legolas, "Never thought I'd die side by side with an Elf, much less two of them."

Legolas smiled and looked down at the Dwarf. "How about side by side with a friend?"

"Or two friends?" added Avalain, smiling as well.

Gimli looked at Legolas and Avalain. "Aye," he answered, nodding. "I could do that."

It was then that a dark whisper flew over the wind… All could hear it hiss, "_Aragorn… Aragorn. Elessar…_"

Everyone froze, knowing that Sauron was attempting to get Aragorn to stand down and not attack his army at all. He was using the Ring as a bribe attempt, an attempt for power… Aragorn stepped forward. His sword fell to his side—

And then, he turned around. He looked at his army and smiled when he saw Legolas, Gandalf, Gimli, Avalain, and the hobbits. "For Frodo," he murmured.

He charged forward, his sword aloft and glinting in the sunlight.

For a moment, everyone froze. It was Merry and Pippin who recovered first. They swiftly followed Aragorn, their little legs carrying them forward as fast as possible.

Everyone else got over their surprise a split second afterward. With her sword in the air, Avalain ran forward as well, swiftly followed by Gandalf and Legolas and Gimli. And the rest of the Men were straight after them, each of their shouts promising justice and freedom to the land of Middle-Earth.

In seconds, the armies collided, and sword points were buried within the flesh of their opponents. Using the last of her power, Avalain screamed a spell to strengthen the armor and the will of all the Men in the White Army. A white sheet of sparkling light glistened down upon the Men, and all of them cheered.

The Men somehow managed to push forward and propel the army closer to the gates. Avalain was careful to stand alongside Aragorn so she could protect him if anything dangerous approached. Legolas was not far off—he was ten feet away, using a sword. Though she knew he was skilled in swordplay, it might've been the first time in his life that he used one for a battle.

Meanwhile, Avalain kept a firm eye on the hobbits. They were running underneath most of the bloodshed, sticking their short swords in the gaps of the Orcs' armor. Many times, an Orc fell seemingly of its own accord; but then Merry would giggle and move off to stick another.

A roar sounded in Avalain's ear—she whirled around and swiftly had to drop to the ground to avoid being decapitated by an Orc. Yet in moments, that Orc was dead, as were its kin that had been within three feet of the Elven princess.

She looked around and noticed that Legolas was being surrounded. Without a second thought, she launched her sword into the back of an Orc that was heading for his back. She then summersaulted upon the ground, grabbed her weapon, and ducked as Legolas beheaded the Orcs within a two foot radius. Knowing that her friend was safe now, Avalain looked to Merry and Pippin—she was surprised seeing a pile of bodies stacked around them. Their short swords were drenched in black blood.

Knowing that hobbits were sturdy and courageous folk, Avalain smiled grimly and turned to the wizard. She found him swinging his sword, Glamdring, at the foes mercilessly. Next to him stood Aragorn, his cries menacing as he obliterated all in his path.

With a laugh, Avalain made her way to the outskirts of the crowd, where she knew the Men of Rohan and Gondor would be having more trouble than the others. Hearing her shouts of encouragement and seeing her bravely throwing herself at the beasts, however, those Men were inspired to fight harder than ever before.

The battle was going relatively well for the Men, strangely enough… but then three deafening shrieks filled the air.

Everyone paused to see the Nazgûl fly through the air on their Fell Beasts—Avalain wished she had energy to kill the remaining three, but this time, it was simply not possible. In a desperate attempt to unseat one of the spirits, Avalain threw a dagger at it. While it embedded itself in a Fell Beast's leg, it was not enough to hurt the Nazgûl.

Forced to acknowledge that she could only continue fighting the beasts upon the ground, Avalain frowned. Her silver sword was stained black with blood.

The shrieks filled the air again, and Avalain glanced back at the crowd to see the Nazgûl were starting to grab Men in their talons. With a gasp, the princess shot three arrows into the feet of the Fell Beasts—one of the Men tumbled back down to the ground right next to her.

Avalain looked over the Man; he groaned, but soon rose to his feet. The Elvish princess protected him as he regained his breath and strength, and then he was back to fighting.

Certain that he was all right, she decided to find her friends again.

Gandalf was whom she found first. He was fending off the creatures magnificently, though he looked like he was tiring—Avalain could tell he hadn't quite recuperated from the battle for Minas Tirith.

"Shall I bring the hobbits here?" shouted Avalain to him, noticing that his gaze was straying to them quite often.

He nodded, yet said nothing. The girl set off, making as clear a path as she could to reach the hobbits.

When finally she succeeded, and ordered them to follow her, she heard a cry. Fearing the worst, she turned—but Pippin had not been hurt. His gaze was astonished as he looked up at the sky and pointed. "The Eagles!" he exclaimed, a grin on his face. "The Eagles are coming!"

Avalain looked to where he pointed and found that his words rang true. The Eagles flew into the Fell Beasts and began pecking and clawing at them, blinding them and infuriating their riders.

But, for some reason, the Nazgûl fled in the direction of Mount Doom…

"Come!" commanded Avalain again. "We must go back to Gandalf!"

There was, however, something that caught her eye after she said this.

It was a large, armored troll wielding a terrifying mace. And it was staring at Aragorn.

"GO!" screeched Avalain, pushing the hobbits toward the wizard. She did not pay attention to their calls of what she was doing; instead, she did her best to fight her way towards her brother. But he was still twenty feet away, and that was a great distance in the middle of a battle…

Even so, she had to try. Avalain stabbed and slashed with her sword, launched a few arrows into their skulls, and smacked Orcs with her bare hand. Yet there were more and more of them. She watched Aragorn fearfully as she battled—he was holding his own against the troll, yet finally it got in a lucky shot.

"_**NO!**_" screamed Avalain as Aragorn was thrown to the ground. Across from her, she could see Legolas attempting to reach him as well; he was screaming Aragorn's name.

The troll pinned Aragorn underneath its foot.

Avalain screamed again, a sound so loud that the nearest Orc clasped its hands to its ears. She seized the opportunity to twist its neck—Aragorn stabbed the troll's foot with a knife.

The great beast roared in fury and raised its foot—

A great rumbling unbalanced all, causing everyone to glance to the land of Mordor.

Avalain saw it first. "The Eye! It is falling! Barad-Dûr crumbles!"

She pointed to the great dark tower, and the Men gazed at it. They were overjoyed to find that what she said was true… Even as they watched, the foundation of the tower split into rubble, and the mount upon which the Eye looked at the land split into two before it hit the ground.

Finally, just before it could touch the land itself, the Great Eye exploded, gone from Middle-Earth forever.

Seeing the fall of their Master, the Orcs, the trolls, all fled.

"_**FRODO!**_" screamed Merry, his little sword in the air. "_**FRODO!**_"

Avalain was blinded by tears. The hobbit had _**succeeded… **_after so much struggle and pain, he had done it. He had saved Middle-Earth.

She quickly joined Merry and Pippin in screaming Frodo's name. "_**SAM!**_" she shrieked, raising her sword. The others soon followed her lead—

Until Mount Doom erupted.

Lava spilled over the mountain's slope, and the very land of Mordor began to crumple into the abyss. The thousands of Orcs that had taken refuge behind the Black Gates all fell into the blackness below… Chunks of molten rock were spat from the mouth of the volcano. Even though those rocks hit the Nazgûl and their Fell Beats, it did little to dim the realization that the mountain had erupted, and so soon after Frodo and Sam must have tossed the Ring in…

Everyone froze, coming to the same conclusion as she. With a hand to her throat, Avalain looked around to see Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, the hobbits, and Gandalf had come to her side.

"No…" gasped she, as Pippin began to cry.

"Frodo," sobbed the hobbit, and Avalain put a hand on his shoulder…

"I do not believe it," said Gandalf, though there were tears inside his eyes as well. With a great whistle, he summoned the Eagles down to his side. And the Lord of the Eagles, Gwaihir, came. Though Avalain had not met him before, she knew that he and Gandalf had been friends for many years.

Without a word, the wizard hopped upon Gwaihir's back and flew off in the direction of the mountain.

Left without any sense of what to do, Avalain and Aragorn glanced at each other. "We must stay here," whispered Aragorn to her. "I will not leave before Gandalf returns."

"I agree," answered Avalain. "I _**must **_see if Frodo and Sam are alive… They _**have **_to be…"

Seeing her distress, Aragorn placed an arm around Avalain's shoulders. She embraced him sadly, not sure what else to do. The hobbits grabbed her hands, and Legolas gently stroked her hair.

It was not even a half hour before Gandalf returned. In Gwaihir's talons were Frodo; Sam in the talons of a second Eagle. They were passed out due to exhaustion.

Avalain squeaked in sheer terror and relief. Were they alive? Were they hurt? When would they wake up? It was only a minute later that she realized all these questions were exiting her mouth in a rapid-fire fashion, and that the wizard was overwhelmed by her excitable appearance.

She closed her mouth after swiftly asking if they needed any healing spells.

At this, Gandalf smiled, though it was tiredly. "No, Avalain, I do not believe they require any healing spells. It seems as though they are only tired, and need sleep and food and the comfort of friends upon their waking…"

She smiled. "That we can give them."

At last, Aragorn gave the order for the Army of Men to return to Gondor, where he would make the announcement that Sauron had been defeated at last…

The journey to return to Gondor took a little more time than it took to arrive, seeing as those that had survived were quite tired and welcomed more rest than they had before.

Avalain spent her free time walking among the Men, asking if any of them needed a healing spell. Though she explained that she could not do anything drastic, she elaborated that she was perfectly capable of healing cuts or stab wounds or anything that could be considered from minor to medium.

Whenever she could, however, she would sit by Frodo's or Sam's side. Neither of them had woken during the journey, they were that fatigued. The Elvish princess was anxious for the day they would awake, for she had just remembered that the last time she had seen them was when a sword had been thrust through her holographic body.

The journey to Minas Tirith took less time than Avalain anticipated. Before long, she was walking up the levels of the city, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli by her side. They had all been consumed with happiness since Sauron's destruction—at the moment, they were discussing the battle at the Black Gates.

"Aragorn, never worry me again!" fretted Avalain. "I thought you were going to become a flattened King!"

The trio laughed at this, and then said Legolas, "Ah, I doubt it, my dear friend. Even underneath the foot of a monstrous beast, I am certain Aragorn would've been able to fight his way out of _**that. **_Remember he fell off a cliff?"

"And oh, how I was dismayed," murmured the Elvish princess. "It seems, my brother, that I must keep two eyes upon you, for you always manage to fall into the darkest situations."

"I have two words to say to you," announced Aragorn.

"They are?"

"Helm's Deep," answered the King of Gondor, a wild grin upon his face.

Avalain spluttered and attempted to respond, but he only laughed and put an arm around her shoulders. "We were in a battle, of course we were all to be nearly killed!" exclaimed she indignantly. But the other three were sniggering; Legolas put his arm around Avalain's other side so that he might balance himself, he was laughing so hard.

Avalain frowned, though it was not real. She playfully glared out at her friend and her brother, as well as the Dwarf, who was leaning on his axe. And it was this sight that set _**her **_to giggling too.

By this time, the Army of Men had been returned to their families. Those who needed treatment were walking towards the Houses of Healing—Avalain knew that she had to go there and help the nurses and healers however she could. She opened her mouth to say as much, but then something caught her gaze.

Her mouth dropped. She cried out and escaped from Aragorn's and Legolas's arms and sprinted to the front doors of the Houses, dropping her bow, her quiver of arrows, her sword, and her knives in the process.

The trio watched her curiously as Avalain ran towards Faramir. He was standing by the door, a grin of relief and disbelief upon his face. He needed no crutch or aid of any sort to walk—he was completely healed.

"Faramir!" gasped Avalain, and she flew into his open arms.

He laughed as he picked her up and spun her around. She was laughing out of pure joy to see him alive and well—when Faramir set her down, he kissed her, not caring about what the others might have to say. And Avalain cared not as well. She returned his kiss, finally certain that there was a future for them…

"I cannot believe it," he whispered, a hand to her face. "You are here. You have returned!"

"Yes, I am, I am here—I promised you," responded Avalain, kissing his forehead. "I _**promised.**_"

"You did," he murmured, and he kissed her cheek before grinning yet again. "I simply cannot believe it," he said. Then, in an attempt to make her laugh, he asked, "Have you taken that walk throughout Minas Morgul yet?"

"Not yet," answered Avalain, a smile upon her face.

"Well, that's a most terrible shame," said Faramir facetiously.

"It is," replied she, "though I believe you and I will have to take a walk throughout Minas Ithil, as once it had been. The Nine are defeated, they are no more, the Orcs have fled—the Time of Men is begun."

He laughed and embraced her once more. Avalain smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck… her eyes closed. She had not been so happy in what felt like an eternity…

It was then that she heard footsteps drawing near. She opened her eyes and moved away from Faramir to see Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli; quite honestly, she had almost forgotten they were there.

Aragorn spoke first. "You must be Faramir, Captain of Gondor," said he with a smile.

"And you are Aragorn, son of Arathorn, are you not?" asked Faramir.

The King of Gondor smiled a little. "I am indeed. Though I am not just a son of Arathorn, but of Lord Elrond as well." With this, the light reflected off his face made him seem a tad threatening.

"Aragorn!" exclaimed Avalain indignantly. This set Legolas and Gimli to snickering—"Pay him no mind," said she to Faramir, who was laughing as well. "He merely jests."

"Am I, though? You _**do **_remember what I said in the Mines of Moria—"

Avalain could not help but burst into hilarity. "Oh, Aragorn, silence yourself!" she lightly scolded. She glanced at the Elf and the Dwarf. "Help me, Legolas, Gimli! I need your aid to subdue this overprotective brother of mine."

The Dwarf scoffed and held up his hands as if in surrender. "Now, don't look at me! You've already gotten _**my **_stamp of approval!"

At this, the princess had to sit down, she was laughing much too hard. It was when Faramir offered a hand to help her stand that she first noticed a glint of silver around his neck.

She gasped. "You wear it?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"Why would I not?" responded he.

"I… I do not know," she responded. "But for some reason, it surprises me."

"Perhaps it is because it contains your immortality," supplied Legolas, his gaze soft when he looked at Avalain. He glanced at Faramir and smiled. "Be very careful with it…" With that, he stepped forward and clapped a hand on the Captain of Gondor's shoulder, for it had been many years since last they had met. "It is good to see you alive and bringing my dear friend such joy. I always knew," he added, a bantering smirk upon his face as he looked at Avalain, "That you were a great danger."

Faramir's eyebrow rose. "A danger of what?"

Legolas grabbed Avalain's arm and yanked her towards him. "Of stealing her away from me!" he exclaimed at last with a chuckle.

Avalain lightly shoved him aside, giggling. "You are no help!" announced she. "Now I've got my insane brother _**and **_my equally crazy friend teasing me!"

"Actually, that was serious," said Legolas, his grin beginning to fade. "I'm worried that we will hardly see each other now that all this is over…"

Avalain's smile vanished as well. She tried vainly for a laugh as she next said, "Oh, please, Legolas. You will not be getting rid of me that easily. I shall be bothering you for many years to come." Seeing that he was not comforted, however, she added, "I promise."

That jarred him. His eyes softened again, and then he was smiling. Avalain looked over all of them and said, "I promise to be bothering you _**all **_for many years to come."

Aragorn and Gimli grinned as well. Avalain turned and smiled at Faramir before stepping next to him and placing her head on his shoulder. She smiled as she looked out over the horizon—"Look," she said, pointing to the east.

The others grew confused.

"What is it, Avalain?" asked Aragorn. "I see nothing."

"Exactly," responded the Elvish princess.

Aragorn laughed and put a hand on Avalain's arm… Gimli smiled and nodded at Avalain, a gruff kind of love in his eyes. Legolas also continued to smile at Avalain, the same affection in his gaze as she had grown used to seeing over the past thousand years…

"I must go inside," she then said quietly. "There are Men who need to be helped…"

But even as she retreated indoors, Faramir, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli all followed her, each of them keeping her company as she worked, something for which the Elvish princess was very glad…

The following day, Avalain could not be parted from the hobbits' bedsides. She dearly wished to be beside them when they awoke, even if they were a room away.

It was Sam who awoke first. Luckily, Avalain was camped in his room during that time—when he saw her, he cried out and leapt out of bed. "_**Avalain!**_" he called, and he ran into her open arms. The Elvish girl could not keep from crying.

"Sam, oh my dear Sam," she sobbed, her tears of joy clouding her eyes. "How I have missed you!"

For a full five minutes they remained this way, until finally Sam pulled away from her embrace and, after sniffling a little, asked, "How is it that you're alive? We _**saw **_the blade strike your heart!"

"It did not hurt me," answered she swiftly. "I was nowhere for a split second in time—the sword did nothing. Oh, Sam, you must tell me how you are, if you need anything, if you want to see everyone else—"

"Yes!" exclaimed Sam. "Where is everyone? Where is Gandalf?"

And so Avalain called in everyone who had been in the Fellowship—it was Merry and Pippin who answered her summons first, and when they saw Sam up and about, all three of them shouted in pure joy and embraced one another so tightly that Avalain might've thought they were not just kin, but brothers.

It was Aragorn who walked in through the door next, and he and Sam had a merry reunion as well… Legolas and Gimli, of course, were almost straight after Aragorn, and they too were overjoyed to be reunited with the hobbit.

And then, in entered Gandalf, his white staff remade, his smile as joyful as ever anyone had seen it.

Sam practically jumped into the wizard's arms, he was so glad that Avalain's words in Ithilien had been true. Although he of course trusted the She-Elf, he was not completely certain that he believed Gandalf was alive until that very moment.

Once everyone was present and accounted for, Sam began telling the story of what had happened since they all parted close to the Falls of Rauros. He spoke of Emyn Muíl, and how Gollum had attempted to steal the Ring from them before becoming Frodo's servant, as well as the Dead Marshes, their escapade with the Black Gate, Faramir's intervention at Ithilien… And then, the story turned darker. It became centered more around their path to Cirith Ungol, and how Gollum tried to murder himself and Frodo by letting a giant spider named Shelob eat them—but before they actually reached the caves, Gollum accused Sam of eating all the lembas bread, thus getting Frodo to lose his confidence in his poor gardener.

At this point in the story, Avalain gasped and grit her teeth. She actually—and unintentionally—shouted out, "That wretched little rat!"

Sam laughed at her outburst and said, "That is exactly what I thought!" Then he resumed his story: How Gollum led Frodo to the dark tunnel, how he returned to help Frodo—how Sam stuck Shelob, how Frodo was captured by Orcs, how Sam sieged one of Sauron's towers to find Frodo, how they crossed the plains of Gorgoroth, and how the Ring was finally tossed into Mount Doom, thanks to, strangely enough, Gollum.

"So you were right, Mister Gandalf, sir," finished Sam at last. "Gollum turned out to save the lives of everyone in Middle-Earth."

And this was the end of the tale. Having heard it, everyone was comforted… But Sam then noted something; with a smile, said he, "If it isn't the highest quality of Captains."

Avalain turned to see Faramir enter the doorway. The Man smiled and said, "I'd heard you had awoken, but I had to see it for myself. I am very comforted to see and know that you are well after such a perilous journey. But, if I heard correctly, that gangrel creature—Gollum, was his name?—attempted to harm you."

Sam nodded. "He did indeed. But there is no need to worry about it now. He was thrown into Mount Doom, along with the Ring. And besides," he added with a laugh. "I'm sure that even if he survived, Avalain would've already killed him."  
>Faramir laughed. "Oh, I have no doubt of that…"<p>

"Now, what's that supposed to mean?" asked Avalain, raising an eyebrow.

"That you are very protective of those whom you love," was the answer.

She smiled. "I suppose I cannot argue with that."

"Of course you cannot," scoffed Faramir. "You killed five of the Nazgûl, whether in rage or protectiveness."

Sam's mouth dropped. "You did _**what, **_Avalain?!"

Avalain laughed and began to tell _**her **_story. All listened attentively as she spoke of what happened after the caves of Ithilien, including the battle of Helm's Deep, her journey to Gondor, the battle of Minas Tirith, and the distraction that was the battle at the Black Gates.

When she finished, the hobbit looked quite flummoxed. He tried to say something, but could not. It was Aragorn who spoke first—"It is the first I have heard of the entire tale as well, Sam, and I am astonished too…"

Said she, "Do not be, brother. I am the granddaughter of Galadriel, after all."

At this, the wizard broke out into laughter. "She has a point!" exclaimed he. "I remember when the Lady Galadriel destroyed Sauron's old fortress with a wave of her hand!"

Everyone laughed, but Avalain noticed that Sam's eyes were beginning to close.

"Sleep, Samwise," she said gently. "You need to regain your strength…"

The hobbit smiled at her and climbed back into his bed without a word. In another few minutes, he was again asleep.

Once Sam dropped off, Avalain went to sit by Frodo's bedside. She figured that he too would awake very soon… Gandalf obviously had the same thought as she, for he soon accompanied her.

It was another hour later that the hobbit finally awoke. He blinked once or twice before registering the two who were standing at the edges of his bed. A grin began to come over his face. "Gandalf?" he whispered. "Avalain?"

The Elvish princess and the White Wizard both smiled and started to laugh. They were so thankful to see the hobbit awake, alive, safe, after his dangerous quest from Mordor, after so long a time of not seeing him, after so much uncertainty.

Frodo began to laugh as well—Avalain walked over to him and embraced him just as she had with Sam. Hearing the commotion from within the room, Merry and Pippin bounded upon the bed and attacked Frodo with hugs and laughter.

Avalain stood up and called in the others. Aragorn was again the first to respond—"Aragorn!" cried Frodo, seeing the King of Gondor.

Then followed Gimli, who laughed and clapped his hands to see Frodo awake. "Gimli!" sighed Frodo with a smile. He soon said, "Legolas!" upon seeing the Elf walk after his friend to visit Frodo.

As they all were reunited, Frodo stopped short upon seeing someone in the doorway—Avalain did not have to turn to know it was Samwise Gamgee. She smiled as the hobbits exchanged a perfectly understandable look… one of appreciation and brotherhood.

Soon, in walked Éowyn, Éomer, Théodred, and Eleanor. They all were introduced to Frodo, and soon tales were exchanged about Frodo's journey and the journeys of the others…

In the middle of telling his own story, however, Frodo grinned. "Faramir!"

Avalain felt Faramir's hand on her shoulder, and she smiled before placing her own on top of it. Said the Man to Frodo then, "It is good to see you, Frodo Baggins."

The hobbit, however, did not say anything. He looked at Faramir—then at the hand upon Avalain's shoulder—then at Avalain.

A grin came out over his face.

Avalain laughed at his expression. "Even after such a time, my dear hobbit, you still know me clear as day."

"What?" asked Sam, glancing between Frodo and Avalain. Frodo only had to give him a look, however, before he caught on. "Oi!" exclaimed the hobbit. "Now, why wasn't I informed of this?!"

This made all the others laugh. That laughter continued for a very long time… the room was full of joy and mirth as the Fellowship of the Ring and all their friends remained, glad to be in each other's company, glad to be rid of the lingering Shadow, glad to simply live alongside their friends and family.


	22. Chapter 22

The following days were peaceful ones… Avalain spent them within the Houses of Healing, though when she was not there, she was always found in the company of the hobbits, Faramir, or anyone else who had been in Frodo's healing room just a few days past.

By this time, Avalain and Eleanor and Éowyn were best friends. They exchanged stories with one another—Avalain was particularly glad to hear Éowyn's story of how Théodred confessed his love for her.

"I knew he would find his path," said the Elf girl. "Just as I knew you would find yours, my dear friend."

Late in the afternoon, the fifth day after returning from the Black Gates, Gandalf informed Avalain about when Aragorn's coronation would take place. It would be three days from then. Said the Elvish girl, "It is good to hear of this… I will of course be present that day."

The wizard smiled. "It is not as if you would miss it for anything."

This made Avalain laugh.

That same night, everyone was in one of the lounges of Minas Tirith's palace. A fire was blazing in the fireplace, and Avalain was sitting upon the floor next to Gimli and Sam. Gandalf was speaking of the ceremony that was to happen; Avalain could not help but notice that Aragorn was looking rather emotionless, as if he did not wish to hear about said ceremony.

Aragorn's expression, however, changed when the wizard added, "People from across Middle-Earth shall be present, including Lord Elrond and Arwen."

Avalain caught his eye; they shared a smile. Each of them was excited to see the elder princess of Rivendell, for it had been many long months.

It was then that Eleanor asked, "What happens after the ceremony?"

The room drew silent.

Then, said Avalain, "We live our lives."

"Never to see each other again?" gasped Théodred.

Avalain smiled grimly. "I am certainly not saying that. I say that we live as best as we can after these final chapters. Yet I for one vote that we should reunite annually, to preserve what friendships we have made here."

Aragorn smiled and looked over the room. "I agree with Avalain," he announced. "Let me tell you all that Minas Tirith is open to you, should you ever wish to visit."

"Let us meet back here next year, then!" exclaimed Pippin excitedly. "These friendships we have made are priceless… they cannot afford to be lost."

Merry nodded and said, "Pippin's right! There are so many whom I've come to love because of this quest. If I never saw any of you again…" He trailed off, not quite sure how to describe the depth of that possible loss.

"You will not have to worry," said Faramir. "Not only is Minas Tirith open to you; so is Ithilien. Now that the Orcs of Mordor have fled those woods, I shall return there—they were once the splendor of the Mortal Country. I intend to make it so again."

Avalain glanced at him and smiled, though there was heaviness in her heart. Would she live in Ithilien for the rest of her days? Would she ever see Rivendell again?

That, however, was when Faramir whispered to her, "And we shall, of course, return to Rivendell whenever you wish. I will not deny that I miss the city greatly."

Her heart lifted to hear those words… "I am very glad for it," responded she. "Although I may not visit only Rivendell, but other places of the world."

"As I once told you, I shall follow you anywhere to make you happy."

The Elvish girl beamed and murmured, "As I would do for you, for all eternity."

Faramir returned her smile, though Avalain could see that it was somewhat forced. Concerned, asked she, "What is wrong?"

He laughed bitterly and said nothing.

Avalain pardoned herself from the conversation around her and stood up from in between Gimli and Sam. Stepping closer to Faramir, repeated she, "Faramir, what is wrong? I know that look you wear. Something is troubling you—keep it not from me."

Faramir glanced at her and saw the look in her eyes. Then, with a sigh, said he, "I am worried, Avalain, about something Legolas said a few days back."

"Something Legolas said?" asked the girl.

"Yes. He spoke of this jewel." He held up the necklace Avalain had given him, the one that contained the light of her star. "He said it contained your immortality."

Avalain knew where the conversation was going. "Faramir, worry not about my immortality, for mine is the choice of Lúthien. I choose a Mortal life."

Hearing her words, sighed Faramir, "Why am I not surprised you said that."

"What would you have me do?" asked Avalain. Her eyes found the ceiling as she muttered, "Do not tell me you wish for me to keep my immortality. I believe we settled this issue a little while back—I care not for immortal life. I care for happiness as I live it."

"Still you are insistent? Are you sure? This is not a choice you can take back later, Avalain."

"I _**recognize **_that, Faramir. Do you honestly believe I would be saying such things had I not already thought this through?"

The Man was silent.

"Ugh," groaned Avalain. "For the love of the Eldar…" She held out her hand. "Give me the necklace."

Confused, Faramir did so. With it in her palm, Avalain waved her hand, and a spark blinded all in the room. When the light died down, everyone glanced at Avalain, though she paid them no attention.

In her hands sat two necklaces: one with her immortal life, the other without.

"Here," said she, holding out the copy. "I hope you will bear this, for I still wish this to be a talisman, an object that shall prove my love to you." Without waiting for him to say anything, Avalain carefully clasped the copy of her necklace around his neck.

She moved away from where her friends were sitting and carefully chose a spot where no one would be hit by shards of glass… Avalain looked out over the crowd of her friends. She smiled, noting how many there were: Faramir, Legolas, Aragorn, Frodo, Pippin, Merry, Sam, Gandalf, Gimli, Eleanor, Éowyn, Théodred, and Éomer.

Then, said she to them, "All of you heed this—do what shall make you happy, for without happiness, your life will mean nothing."

And without any other words, Avalain dropped her necklace.

It hit the ground, and the glass shattered in all different directions.

"_**Avalain!**_" shouted Faramir, his face white.

Avalain gasped and stumbled, feeling suddenly lightheaded. She could feel the Elvish magic in her blood seep out of her, albeit it was gradually. While she knew she would still look exactly the same, she would be able to heal people who needed it, she would still be an Elf—her immortal life was gone. Any chance of her living past the Ages had disappeared… and she was glad for it.

Gandalf gasped and darted forward as Avalain buckled to her knees. He grabbed her and exclaimed, "Foolish girl! What was it that I said about listening before acting?"

It was here the girl laughed. "Foolish wizard," returned she. "Do you honestly think I am daft enough to do something without thinking it through? Do you believe I am ignorant about what I have just done?"

The wizard stopped short and glared at her for a moment. Then, sighed he, "No, of course not. If anything, you broke your necklace to make a point…"

"Now you understand," grinned Avalain. "Please let me up. I am quite all right…"

Avalain was set back upon her feet to see Aragorn, Legolas, Frodo, and Faramir all crowding around her worriedly. Seeing their distress, she laughed and said, "Worry not. I feel fine… if anything, I am only tired."

"Avalain, why did you do that," said Faramir quietly.

"Why else?" asked she. "I will not spend my life arguing with you about whether I should live forever or die happily. It is _**my **_life, and however much I love you, you have absolutely no say in my decision. I choose you—I choose death and joy."

Legolas blanched. "Avalain…" he gasped quietly. "Avalain, this means someday we shall be parted. Am I truly to lose you?" The Elvish princess noted that he quoted her from when she had spoken to him at Helm's Deep…

"No," answered she. "We shall meet in the Undying Lands, whether my soul is at rest or whether I travel there by sea. I do not know, and it is no concern of ours at this time. I have more than a hundred years of life left within me. You need not worry yet."

"You and I, of all people, know that one hundred years passes swifter than a sunset," whispered Legolas.

"Perhaps it has in the past," responded she, placing a hand to his face. "But this is the present, and we are looking at the future. We have the power to change our fate, the way we look at things, the way we live. I have done so—perhaps you would do well to follow my lead, my dear Legolas."

Her friend could find nothing to say to that… Avalain glanced among all the others in the lounge room. They were all looking at her with wide eyes. She turned to Aragorn and raised an eyebrow. "I suppose you should like to scold me now?"

The King of Gondor shook his head. "No, I should not like to," objected he. "If anything, I shall only say… You and Arwen verily are sisters."

Now Avalain laughed, comforted by the fact that her sister had been this stubborn in regards to mortality. Then, said she, "It is strange, how sisters might be so alike even after so long a parting. I am overjoyed to hear she will be coming in three days… And before those three days, I must rest. I need it now more than I did earlier."

"I wonder why?" asked Frodo jokingly, trying for a laugh.

It worked—Avalain smiled at those in the room. "Goodnight, my friends."

They all bade her goodnight, and with that, Avalain walked to where she slept and crawled into bed. She thought happily of what had happened, as well as what was yet to come.

Three days later, the courtyard of Minas Tirith was crowded for Aragorn's coronation. The people of Gondor had gathered to see the days of the King begin again—Avalain was standing with Faramir very close to Aragorn, at his insistence.

She watched fascinatedly as Gandalf took a silver crown from a cushion Gimli carried and lowered it upon her brother's head. "Now come the days of the King!" announced the wizard. He looked at Aragorn and mumbled, "May they be blessed."

With that, Aragorn rose to tumulus applause from the Mortals and his friends. Avalain caught his eye, and he shared a smile with her, one that said they would be there for each other should they need it. Then, said Aragorn to the crowd, "This day does not belong to one Man, but to all. Let us together rebuild this world, that we may share in the days of peace…"

The Mortals clapped even louder at that—but Aragorn silenced them by beginning a song in Elvish. Avalain smiled deeply; something light fell upon her shoulder. Her grin grew larger realizing they were petals of white flowers… of simbelmynë.

_The everlasting flower for everlasting days of peace, _thought she.

Aragorn began walking down the steps towards the people who had assembled for his coronation. He stopped in front of Faramir and Avalain and smiled at them both. Then, asked he to Faramir, "May I borrow her for a moment?"

Faramir nodded, and Avalain walked forth.

"My dear sister," he sighed, taking her hand. "I am glad to see you joyful as you are called. I ask you to remain here a little while longer, for you are one of those that I love most. The day that you leave for Ithilien or Rivendell shall be a sad day indeed."

The Elvish princess nodded. "Gladly will I stay for a few more days. I could not be parted from this marvelous city now, anyways."

Aragorn chuckled. "Avalain, Faramir… Walk with me," he said, not releasing her hand.

And so they obeyed, and they followed him as he walked toward Legolas, who strode forward to meet them. He gave Eleanor a look, and she smiled and bowed to Aragorn, though he waved her to stand.

The King and the Elf shared a knowing look before clapping each other on the shoulder. They said nothing, for all they wished to say was exchanged in their glance. It was then that Legolas gestured behind him.

Aragorn and Avalain both peered around the Elf prince to see the Lord Elrond standing beside someone holding a green banner of Gondor. When the bearer of the banner cast it aside, however, they could see that it was Arwen, dressed in a light green gown, her deep blue eyes filled with life, a hesitant smile upon her face.

"Go to him," whispered Lord Elrond. His gaze then was cast from Arwen to Avalain. His mouth dropped and his eyes widened; Avalain smiled at Faramir and released his hand before rushing forward into her father's open arms.

"My daughter," he gasped, and Avalain could not help but smile.

"I promised to return to you," whispered she. She felt her father's embrace grow tighter… it was clear he had worried she would not return, after so much darkness and danger.

Once they moved away from each other, Avalain turned to see Aragorn embracing her sister. She smiled—she knew they would have a long, happy future together… Out of joy, Avalain retook Faramir's hand. Her eyes lit up seeing the smile upon his face.

It was then she saw the expression of her father. Clearly, he had put together the fact that he would not only be losing his elder daughter, but his younger as well. His eyes contained many emotions: joy, sadness, surprise.

"Father," said Avalain, placing a hand on his arm. Lord Elrond tried for a smile, but he looked quite wistful. "We love you no less… This is not farewell for forever. Rivendell is but a fortnight away by horse."

Now he smiled. "Yes, my daughter, that is true. And I am happy for you… and you," added he, looking at Faramir.

The Man smiled and bowed to Lord Elrond, though he, like Aragorn, waved off the gesture. "You need not bow to me, if you are now to be like my kin."  
>At this, Avalain smiled—she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Arwen. "Oh, sister!" cried Avalain, and the two Elvish ladies laughed as they held one another, each of them exclaiming about how very glad they were to be reunited, to see the other once again.<p>

Once they released each other, Aragorn gestured them to follow him a second time. Again they did; he led them to the four hobbits that were standing in the midst of the crowd.

Upon seeing the King of Gondor, the hobbits all bowed.

But Aragorn frowned. When they arose, he said, "My friends! You bow to no one." And then it was _**he **_who bowed to them—Avalain, Arwen, and Faramir swiftly followed his lead.

The rest of the crowd, seeing their King, knelt as well until the four hobbits were the tallest out of all those who had assembled. Avalain smiled as she looked at their faces… they looked bewildered, albeit Pippin appeared pleased, as they gazed around the crowd to see what they did. When everyone rose again, they smiled at those who stood in front of them, and soon the Mortals all disbanded until all who were left on the top level of Minas Tirith were the Fellowship of the Ring and the royal families of Rohan and Rivendell.

One week later, people began to set out from Minas Tirith to return to their own homes.

Although the time spent in the White City had been filled with joy and happy memories, all knew that their own lives called them. The first to return to Rohan were Éomer, Éowyn, Théodred, and Eleanor. While Legolas did not go with Eleanor, he explained to her that he would return to her in Rohan as soon as he finished his explorations of Fangorn Forest and the Glittering Caves of Helm's Deep with Gimli, for some time during their adventure, the Elf and the Dwarf had promised the other to travel to those spots and marvel at their beauty.

Before they could leave, however, Avalain caught them and swore that she would visit them someday in Edoras, for the woods of Ithilien were less than a week away on horseback.

Following their leave were Gandalf and the hobbits, who traveled together for the Shire. It was a very sad farewell for Avalain, for their land was the farthest from what would soon be her home. It made her homesick for her own city, seeing as she would have been able to visit them anytime should she have remained there. But alas, it was not to be; Avalain made sure to give them all their daggers back—they had returned hers—and say, "These are yours now, my dear hobbits, to name as you will. They will be something to remember me by."

"You make it sound like this is more than a temporary farewell," said Merry sadly.

Avalain shook her head. "No, dear one. This is only a short farewell, for I know we shall meet again. But until our paths cross… Remember me, for I will surely not forget you."

The hobbits all told her then that their houses were always open to her, and that teatime was around four in the afternoon should she ever like to stop by.

Gandalf approached her then. "Where shall you go, my mentor?" asked Avalain.

"I ride to remain with Tom Bombadil on the borders of the Shire," answered the wizard. "With him I shall live for a few years… but once they pass, I know I shall be called elsewhere."

Though Avalain had a suspicion that she knew where he was going, she was afraid to voice it aloud. She refused to think about the future—and so she hugged Gandalf and responded, "Should you ever find yourself wandering the world like you once had done, should you ever be close to Ithilien…"

"I will come," smiled the wizard. And then he turned and was gone.

Two days afterward departed her father. This too was a very difficult goodbye, seeing as he would be returning to Rivendell alone. Assembled in the throne room at the time of his leave were Aragorn, Arwen, Avalain, Faramir, and the Lord Elrond.

"Father," said Avalain thickly. "I shall come to see you very soon. This I swear."

He smiled. "Avalain, you have a life to live now. You have people who love you and a home you shall take great joy within. You shall be constantly traveling enough without having to worry about me."

Avalain's heart grew heavy. "Am I never to see you again?"

He shook his head. "I am certain we shall see each other again, my dear daughter. That goes for you as well, Arwen. And when we meet, I know it will be a long meeting at that…"  
>This comforted both Elven girls, although they were still sad to see their father leave. Then he turned to Aragorn and Faramir. "I think of you as my own sons now," said the Lord of Rivendell. "I trust in both of you… I know that you are great Men. And I know you shall make my daughters happy. Thank you for bringing them joy."<p>

Aragorn and Faramir bowed, and then Lord Elrond left for Rivendell.

It was another three days before Avalain and Faramir said their farewells to Aragorn and Arwen. Although all were sad, Ithilien was only a day's ride upon horseback. To Avalain's great relief, they would be seeing each other constantly.

When Avalain saddled Brismath in the stables, her satchel full of lembas bread, berries, and healing herbs, she sighed and smiled at Faramir. He was preparing his own horse for leave as well—"What is it?" asked he, noticing her expression. "Something troubles you?"

She smiled grimly. "Everything is changing. During my adventure, I never thought ahead, I never thought about how difficult it would be to leave everyone, to resume my life. It is strange… All I wanted during those days of darkness was to see the world again submerged in light, but now that those days have arrived… I do not know what to do with myself."

Faramir smiled at her words and kissed her forehead. "You said it yourself a fortnight past. We simply live. Life awaits us, Avalain. Let us take advantage of it and live it in joy."

At this, the girl sighed in relief. "I do not know what I would do without you, Faramir."

"Nor I without you," responded he.

And with that, the two settled themselves upon their horses and rode to Ithilien…

Neither looked back.


	23. Chapter 23

As the years passed, Avalain was overjoyed to find that everyone kept their promises. Almost exactly one year later, Samwise Gamgee sent all an invitation to the Shire to attend his wedding.

Reading the letter, the Elvish princess was overjoyed—he would be wed to Rosie Cotton, a name she recalled hearing with great adoration in his voice during their adventures. She immediately sent a response saying that of course she would come, as would Faramir.

And they did, and when Avalain and Faramir were reunited with the hobbits, there was such a merry meeting that did take place. Frodo Baggins immediately invited them into Bag End, where the four hobbits, the Elf girl, and the Man all caught up about what happened over the year. Before long, however, the doorbell rang—and there stood Legolas and Eleanor.

If Avalain had been overjoyed then, she was ecstatic at that moment.

One day later, Aragorn and Arwen, Legolas and Eleanor, Faramir and Avalain, Gandalf, Frodo and Merry and Pippin were present at Sam's wedding. Although Éomer, Éowyn, and Théodred had not been able to attend, they sent their love and wished them all the best.

Two days after the wedding, Aragorn, Arwen, Faramir, and Avalain all traveled to Rivendell to visit Lord Elrond and the Elves who had remained in Middle-Earth. There they remained for a fortnight before setting off for home.

It was six months later that Avalain and Faramir invited everyone to come to _**their **_wedding, which took place in Rivendell—Faramir managed to arrange that as a surprise for Avalain. When she discovered it, she almost sobbed with joy, and that joy only grew upon seeing everyone present, including her dear father.

And six months after _**that, **_everyone met in Minas Tirith for their second reunion. It was a merry meeting, and then Aragorn and Arwen were wed—it was a quiet ceremony in which only their closest friends were invited, and such a celebration there was afterward! Though the denizens of Minas Tirith had not witnessed the ceremony, the city was alive with joy and music and beauty for nearly a week afterward.

Months passed, and everyone kept in touch through letters and wedding invitations. Legolas and Eleanor and Éowyn and Théodred were all married in Rohan in one ceremony, and during the celebration, Pippin announced that he was engaged to a lovely hobbit girl named Violet Smallburrow, and that they were to be married in two years.

Then, it was three and a half years to the day when everyone gathered in Ithilien. During the time in which Faramir and Avalain lived happily there, the woods had begun to grow back… Men who had followed Faramir and Avalain aided them in removing desecrated statues of Men, as well as cleaning up statues that could be saved. It was as it had been before Sauron retook the land of Mordor. Avalain had thought the place beautiful during her adventure—now, it was paradise.

It was there Avalain and Arwen both announced the news that they were with child.

Two weeks passed, and everyone was gone again…

And yet, not even six months later, Gandalf stopped by Ithilien.

Taken by surprise, Avalain and Faramir swiftly welcomed him into their home. Quickly did the She-Elf serve the wizard tea, and then they spoke for a while.

"You must tell me about Tom Bombadil, for I have heard his name, yet I have never met him," exclaimed Avalain.

The wizard smiled. "He is a kindly soul who lives in the forest of Buckland, just on the outskirts of the Shire. There I am close enough to keep an eye on the hobbits… As is Tom. He is a guardian of Middle-Earth, and a guardian of all forests. He helps keep watch on the Shire. One reason the hobbits that live there are so oblivious to everything that occurs with the rest of the world is because Tom Bombadil shields them from dark power."

Avalain was fascinated. "So he is a guardian… yet he is not a wizard?"

"No, he is not," answered Gandalf. "Although should he be a wizard, he would be quite a good one… Much like Radagast the Brown!"

"Ah! Now _**him **_I have met," laughed Avalain.

Gandalf laughed as well. "Although Tom would be a bit less eccentric."

Now Avalain and the wizard laughed; Faramir, who had heard of Radagast the Brown, smiled. "So the hobbits are doing well, then?" asked he.

The wizard's smile became a little forced. "For the most part, they are indeed. Samwise and Pippin are just fine… Merry has met a lovely girl named Asphodel Springfield, so I believe you might be receiving another wedding invitation rather soon… I do believe Meriadoc and Peregrin will host their weddings the same day, when it happens."

At this, Avalain and Faramir both laughed. "That is good news," said Faramir.

"Yes, it is," said the wizard. "But there is something else I came for."

"What is it?" asked the Elvish girl.

"Now, I know, Avalain, that you may not be in the proper condition for horse riding," began Gandalf, gesturing to Avalain's stomach. Being seven months pregnant, she was showing quite a bit. She flushed as Gandalf continued, "But years ago, I told you that someday, I would be called somewhere else. And that time has come. I will be leaving…"

Avalain sighed and closed her eyes. "I was afraid this day would come," sighed she.

"Where will you be going, Mithrandir?" asked Faramir.

"I sail for the Undying Lands," responded the wizard. "And I shall not be alone."

Avalain's tears finally leaked over her cheeks. "My father is going with you, is he not, Gandalf? And my grandmother too?"

The wizard gently took the hands that were in her lap and held them. "Yes, Avalain. Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel shall accompany me. But I suspect there shall be another…"

"Who?" asked she.

"Bilbo Baggins," replied Gandalf. "The hobbits are to go to the Grey Havens to send myself and Bilbo off… I wished to know if you would like to come with me. Having been like a father to you since the beginning of your life, I figured that you would be quite sad if I were to leave without saying goodbye."

Avalain opened her eyes and smiled. "You are correct in saying so…" She glanced at Faramir and asked him, "Do you believe I would be able to go?"

Faramir smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder. "That is not my decision. It is yours."

She nodded slowly. "Yes, Gandalf, I would like to go with you… for a final farewell."

"Oh," sighed he. "Well, do not say that. One way or another, we shall meet again, should you sail to the Havens later in your life, or should you be transported there through another means."

"You are right, as usual." This earned a chuckle from the wizard. "When do we leave, Gandalf?"

"As soon as you are ready. I promised the hobbits I would meet them at Bag End on midsummer's eve."

"That leaves you a month, and it takes a little less than three weeks to arrive in the Shire on horseback," said Faramir.

"Let us leave in the morning," declared Avalain. "That shall give us plenty of time."

The wizard quickly agreed, and for the remainder of the evening, the trio talked and recalled old tales, each of them glad for the company.

One month later, Avalain, Gandalf, and the five hobbits were at the Grey Havens. Gandalf had driven a caravan to the Havens to transport as many passengers as he had—though the Elvish girl had had a merry reunion with all the hobbits, their moods turned wistful when they saw the last ship heading for Valinor ahead of them.

Standing in front of the ship were Lord Elrond, Galadriel, and Celeborn.

Avalain swallowed… the reality of the situation was overwhelming.

When he saw the sight, gasped old Bilbo Baggins, "Oh! Well this is a sight I have never seen before…" His eyes lingered on the simple Elvish ship that would sail past the harbor, past the grey columns into the Sea.

"The power of the Three Rings is ended," said Galadriel calmly. "The time has come for the dominion of Men."

In Elvish, said Lord Elrond with a smile, "The Sea calls us home…"

Avalain stepped towards her father, a small yet sad smile upon her face. "Oh, father," she sighed. She walked into his open arms and allowed herself to cry. "I shall miss you dearly…"

Lord Elrond laid his cheek upon Avalain's head and smiled. "You shall live a happy life, Avalain. I have foreseen it… As I have foreseen that someday we shall be reunited, as a family."

Comforted by his words, Avalain laughed a little. "Though I am sad now, I know the years shall pass swiftly, as they already have…"

"Yes, they shall pass indeed," said her father. He looked into Avalain's eyes and smiled. "And as I promise you, they shall be filled with joy… Soon, your family will be your happiness."

"But you are my family as well," protested Avalain.

"And so I shall see you in the future." He kissed Avalain's forehead and placed a hand on her face. Then, in Elvish; "Farewell, my Everstar."

Avalain's joy dimmed—she stepped toward her grandmother.

"I was correct," smiled Galadriel cryptically. "Last we met, I promised you that you should be happy when next we meet. And so you are, my dear… And so you are."

"I am indeed happy, but seeing you prepare to leave casts a shadow over the sun," sighed Avalain. "Am I ever to see you in Valinor?"

"Someday," answered the Lady of Light. "Someday, I shall find you."

With that, Galadriel grasped Avalain's hand. "Goodbye for now, Avalain Nightshade. Live in happiness, and when next we meet, we shall together depart this life…"

Avalain, noting this gently firm farewell, stepped back. She glanced at Bilbo Baggins, who gazed up at her and smiled. "Goodbye, Avalain," he said. "Long have we known each other—now it is time to part. I am grateful to have known you."

"As I am so pleased to have known you, Bilbo Baggins," answered she.

The hobbit grinned and hobbled to the ship… Avalain watched Lord Elrond aid him on board. Before he disappeared underneath the deck, however, the Lord of Rivendell looked back at his daughter.

He smiled one more time; it was a smile filled with love.

And then he disappeared.

Avalain swallowed her next tears and turned back to face Gandalf. She arrived just in time to hear the wizard say, "Farewell, my brave hobbits, my lovely daughter. My work is now finished… Here at last, on the shores of the sea, comes the end of our Fellowship. I will not say do not weep, for not all tears… are an evil." With this, he glanced over the hobbits, who were smiling, their eyes clouded.

The wizard turned to Avalain. "Goodbye," was all he said. He embraced her one last time, and then he turned to follow Lord Elrond and Galadriel onto the ship… But then he turned. With a smile, said the White Wizard, "It is time, Frodo…"

"What does he mean?" asked Sam, a look of surprise over his face.

But Avalain knew what Gandalf meant.

"We set out to save the Shire," answered Frodo. "And it has been saved… but not for me."

Avalain's tears continued flowing. She was already parting with her two fathers and her grandmother… she could not bear to be parted with one of her hobbits, one of her sons.

"You don't mean that," protested Sam, shaking his head. "You can't leave!"

Frodo smiled, but it was very sad. He pulled something out from beneath his cloak… Avalain could see it was a book. She was swiftly reminded of what Bilbo Baggins was constantly working on during his time at Rivendell before her quest… "The last pages are for _**you, **_Sam," said Frodo, pressing the book into Sam's palm.

Around him, the other three hobbits and the Elvish girl had tears lining their faces. Frodo went around one by one, hugging his kin… Pippin… then Merry…

He approached Avalain then and said, "Avalain, you have been like a mother to me, and I love you just as much as one. I thank you for everything you've done, everything… And I wish you all the happiness in the world."

Avalain swallowed and kissed his forehead. In Elvish, she told him, "Farewell, Frodo Baggins. As a star shone on our meeting, let one shine now on our parting…"

He wrapped his arms around her neck and kissed her cheek before walking towards Sam. They shared one special embrace, and whilst neither said anything, it was clear that all there was to say was said with one glance. Then Frodo kissed Sam's forehead, and he walked towards Gandalf, who was waiting for him…

Gandalf held out his hand, and Frodo took it. Together, the wizard and the hobbit boarded the ship… Frodo looked back at Merry, Sam, Pippin, and Avalain, and he smiled. He truly smiled, what seemed like the first time in a long while…

The ship set sail, and the three hobbits and Avalain remained, watching it, until at long last, it disappeared past the grey columns…

And then, as one, they all turned to set off for home.

When Avalain returned home three weeks later, Faramir was waiting for her.

She approached him and smiled as he kissed her lightly. "It is good to see you again," said he. "Time seems stretched when you are away…"

"You will not have to worry about my traveling for a while now," smiled Avalain. "I shall be here for a long time to come. And even if something was to happen and I was to leave, I would be sure you would come with me."

He laughed—she joined in. Together, they turned to face the beauty of the green woods of Ithilien. The sun shone golden through the air, and the wild red roses gleamed in the light. Then, said Faramir, "I promised I would follow you anywhere… And so I hold to that promise."

Avalain smiled. Such peace she had not known for a long time, "I love you, Faramir," she murmured softly. "More than any other on this earth."

"As I love you—I have for years, and so I will forever." With that, Faramir gently guided her inside the house, for Avalain was weary from travel.

And though Avalain was burdened with the lingering shadow of sad farewells, with Faramir by her side, a silver and white beam of happiness and peace overrode her sorrow in that moment, as it would the rest of her life.


	24. Epilogue

What happened to the Fellowship, and the people of Rohan

Éowyn and Théodred lived long lives in Rohan. Together, they birthed two sons. Théodred ruled Rohan for a long fifty years before death by old age. Éowyn died two years later, also of old age.

Éomer eventually married a fair maiden of Rohan and continued to live his life as Captain of the Rohirrim. Because Éomer was constantly traveling across the plains of Rohan upon his horse, they bore no children. After Éomer's wife saw his love of horse riding, she joined his ranks until the end of their days.

Eleanor and Legolas lived in Rohan, though they constantly traveled to Gondor, Ithilien, and the Blue Mountains to visit Aragorn and Arwen, Avalain and Faramir, and Gimli. Legolas and Eleanor raised two sons and two daughters together. When Eleanor died at age eighty-two, Legolas spent the following forty years in Rohan and in Ithilien before sailing to the Undying Lands with Gimli and Avalain.

Gimli returned to the Blue Mountains after the adventure, where he dwelled happily. He often was reunited with those on the journey during their reunions. He eventually married and fathered two sons before sailing to the Undying Lands with Legolas and Avalain.

Merry eventually married Asphodel Springfield, and he became the Master of Buckland for sixty years. He fathered three daughters with Asphodel and died happily at the age of ninety four.

Pippin married Violet Smallburrow the same day Merry married Asphodel Springfield. He was the father of one son and one daughter; he named his son Faramir. He was the Deputy of Hobbiton for fifty years before his death at age ninety seven.

Sam, who had already married Rosie Cotton, soon became the Mayor of Hobbiton, a position he held for fifty years. During his time as mayor, he and Rosie had thirteen children together; their first son was named Frodo. Once Rosie died at age seventy-eight, Sam was given instruction by Avalain at how to reach the Undying Lands. He sailed alone and found the land of Valinor, where he was reunited with Gandalf, Frodo, and Rosie.

Aragorn and Arwen were the father and mother of one son named Eldarion and many daughters. Aragorn was seen as the greatest King to ever rule Gondor; his rule lasted for one hundred and twenty years, for his was the blood of Númenor, and he was blessed with long life. After he died, Arwen died a year later of a broken heart, just before she could sail to the Undying Lands with her sister, Legolas, and Gimli.

Avalain and Faramir lived in Ithilien for the vast majority of their lives, although they often traveled to Gondor, Rohan, and the Shire to visit their friends. Only one month after Frodo and Gandalf sailed to the Undying Lands, Avalain birthed a son, whom she and Faramir named Boromir. They eventually had twin daughters, but one was stillborn. The surviving daughter they named Galadriel.

After ten years, Orcs invaded the woods of Ithilien. Avalain and Faramir led Men to repel the Orcs—after two years of ceaseless fighting, the Men successfully defended their home. The rest of their lives was spent without bloodshed.

Faramir, like Aragorn, had within him the blood of Númenor. Because of this, his life was longer than most Men; he died at age one hundred and ninety. Avalain, although her immortal life was destroyed, felt that she still had enough life within her for twenty years. She swiftly invited Legolas and Gimli to remain with her in Ithilien, and for the next eleven years, the trio lived, consistently visiting Minas Tirith, until Aragorn died. They then made preparations to sail for the Undying Lands with Arwen, but Arwen died one year before they were to sail. And so it was that Avalain, Legolas, and Gimli sailed to the Undying Lands together.

And it was there that everyone at last met each other again in the Undying Lands… Then, reunited as one Fellowship, they proceeded to their next life.


End file.
